


Ultraviolence

by mnernosyne



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Psychosis, mild violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-28
Updated: 2017-06-10
Packaged: 2018-04-23 19:40:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 27
Words: 121,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4889605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mnernosyne/pseuds/mnernosyne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. Brendon arrives back in Las Vegas after spending a decade away. He thinks he's going to be able to live a calm life there, until he is accused of beating up his uncle. He affirms he doesn't have any memories from that night, but evidences are against him. Is he lying or telling the truth?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**T** he first time it happened was on a Sunday morning, while his parents were at church. The neighbourhood was placid, not a single sound audible except for a few birds chirping in the distance. From afar, every little thing seemed to be perfect, almost like an utopian world, until you looked closer, suddenly witnessing vices and cruelty, betrayal and psychosis. He was playing in the backyard, climbing on the monkey bar until exhaustion would get over him, just what you would expect from a six-year-old boy.

As he was hanging upside down, a minuscule kitten appeared in his field of vision, limping across the lawn. Without turning his gaze away from the fragile creature, he went back on his feet and approached it, one tiny hand held out to pat its head. The kitten mewled poorly before pushing away from the boy's gentle touch. _Poor little thing_ , he thought, _that's not a nice thing to do_. He sat back on his heels, resting one of his hands besides him, feeling something cool and solid under his palm instead of the softness of mowed lawn. For the first time in the past minutes, he gazed down to see what his hand landed on, as his eyes set on the rock, he felt his breath quicken, a buzzing feeling under his skin, just like how he felt on Christmas mornings. The boy adjusted his grip on the rock, lifting it and weighting it, slowly, the corner of his lips twitching just once. Another second passed, and he launched on the kitten hitting it repeatedly, almost in a trance, only stopping when there was barely anything left to hit anymore.

“Brendon! Honey, we're back.” a soft feminine voice called out, tearing him out of his momentary insanity, forcing him to see what he had just done.

“Mommy!” he cried out, running inside to find his parents standing in the entryway, taking off their coats. The boy's mother shrieked at the sight of her son stained with what seemed to be blood. “Th-the-there's a kitten i-in the ba-b-backyard.” he hiccupped as his mom knelt in front of him making sure the blood wasn't coming from the young boy.

“Honey, calm down,” she tells him soothingly stroking the side of his face, “take a deep breath and tell me what is going on.”

“I was playing in the backyard,” he starts slowly, fighting back his tears, “and I heard a noise, and when I turned around I saw this small kitten lying on the grass. I tried to save it b-b-but it, it's dead.”

The young woman pulled her shaky crying son in her arms, holding him tightly against her chest, not caring about the stains it might have created on her Sunday dress. She placed a soft kiss on the top of the boy's head, tightening her grip as his crying increased.

“Come on Brendon, stop crying, it's just a cat, you are a boy, quit being a wimp and toughen up.” the father said coldly, standing still in front of the door, arms crossed against his chest.

“Boyd! He's only six, of course he gets emotional over the tragic death of a tiny animal.” the woman retorted.

“You've always wrapped him in cotton wool, you aren't helping at all.”

“I'm sorry.” Brendon said once his father left the entryway to go in his office.

“Why are you sorry baby?”

“It's my fault if daddy is angry by you.”

“With, sweetie, angry with, and he's not angry, he just had a tough week at work and church didn't go too well either. Don't be sorry for something that is not your fault, okay?” he nodded slowly and got a soft kiss on the forehead. “Now let's clean you up.”

 

***

 

**T** he second time it happened was seven years later, on a Friday afternoon as he was walking home from school, passing by the same alley, just like he did every day on his way home. He heard at school that a fight occurred there the previous night, two drunk homeless men fought over a spot to sleep on, one of them threw a bottle at the other, scaring him and earning the spot.

The school day had been long for him, first Daniel Khols threw the ball right in his face in P.E class, and no matter what he said to the teacher, Brendon knew he did it on purpose. Then, he got his report card and saw, much to his dismay, that he failed in four classes out of six, and in the two remaining ones he was only doing okay. Lastly, as he walked out of school he saw Suzy Lorkosky making out with no other than Khols, better known as the evil.

It wasn't the worst day he had to go through but Brendon was pretty sure it must have been in his top 3, right after that day he found a dead kitten in the backyard when he was six. He was mad, but not mad at Khols or Suzy, he was angry with himself, for not standing up to Khols, for not asking Suzy out, for failing his classes. He wanted to scream at the top of his lungs, kick a wall until his toes would crack and bleed, anything to get all this anger out of him. _You suck so much, even you can't put up with yourself_.

A cracking sound echoed in the deserted alley as he stepped on the shattered glass, the remaining evidence of the fight that occurred the night before. He took a step back, setting his gaze on the floor, _perfect_ , he thought, _absolutely perfect_.

He took a hold of one of the sharpest piece of glass, and let it run on his arm, watching the creamy skin breaking apart to reveal a beautiful ruby red. The slight rise and fall of his chest gave way to a faster pace, the sound of his breath deafening in the silent alley.

It was only when the piece of glass slipped from his hand and fell amongst the others on the floor, that he noticed his arm was bleeding. His head snapped back up as he looked frantically around him, looking for someone who might've been here during the past minutes. The alley was just as deserted as it was when he walked in what seemed like a few seconds ago.

When he arrived home, his mother was sitting in the living room, watching her favorite soap opera. She looked up to smile at her son, like she always did when he came back from school, except that the first thing she noticed was the already drying blood on his forearm.

“Oh my.. What happened to you?” in a second she was standing in front of him, holding his arm in her hands while she examines his wounds.

“Uhm..” he didn't have the answer to that question, nobody was in the alley after all, maybe he just fell on the glass. “I was in the alley next to Rupert's, two homeless men fought yesterday, I didn't see a cardboard lying on the floor and I fell in the shattered glass.”

“Oh, honey you need to be more careful about where you step, it could have been worse.” he nodded at his mother's words like he did when he was a little boy and got lectured by her. “Let me see if there aren't pieces stuck in the cuts and then I'll clean them, I don't think it's deep enough for you to need stitches, you are lucky.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally wrote the first chapter! It was pretty hard to write, so hard I almost thought I wouldn't make it, but I did and I'm fully satisfied!  
> I hope you enjoy reading this chapter enough to come back and read the next one!

**_LAS VEGAS, present day._**

Las Vegas is situated in the Mojave's desert which is known to be the driest one of the upper part of the american continent, months can pass without a single drop of rain. But of course, it decided to rain the day he missed the bus and no taxi cabs were available. Some days you should just stay in bed and wait for the next day to come. Perhaps he'll do just that tomorrow morning, it doesn't look like the rain is going to stop anytime soon anyway.

As he enters his apartment block he catches a glimpse of his reflection in the large mirror the landlord decided to set up on the wall facing the main door. He looks like a wet puppy, God, he hates Mr. Wenwrick, _it'll look more welcoming,_ he said, _the hallway will be luminous that way._ Bullshit.

When he steps inside his new apartment he is welcomed by the same sight he's seen in the past couple of days, packed boxes scattered messily around the living room. He turns on the TV and start unpacking a random box. He decided to unpack a box a day when he moved here, in hopes it wouldn't completely feel like moving, but more like a temporary situation.

“ _In Phoenix, Arizona, the unanimated body of a man in his mid 20s has been found in an apartment on Central Avenue. The body has been found yesterday night by the landlord who immediately called 911. The cause of death has not been determined yet, nor the ident-”_ the anchorwoman announces with what is supposed to be sadness in her tone even though it sounds more like she's trying not to laugh in Brendon's opinion. “ _Wait. Okay. I just got more information about the case, the forensic performed the autopsy, we don't know anything more about the exact cause of the death yet, but we can already affirm the young man's identity; Spencer Smith.”_ At these words, Brendon's head snaps back up to look at the tv screen which is now showing Spencer's photo.

A week ago, Spencer asked him to leave their common apartment, he said he needed time by himself to think, Brendon knew what it meant so he just packed and left as far as he could afford in such a short time. And now, he has been found dead, _dead,_ in the same place they've been arguing in not so long ago, the same place they've been living in for years, where they shared tenderness and love. All these moments meant nothing anymore, all this apartment represented now was the tragic death of a man Brendon had once loved, still loved.

Flash backwards to three years prior, it had been a long day at work for Brendon, mostly due to the fact this day was June 15 th . He wanted to have a good time and just forget about everything for a few hours instead of going home and mourning.

After what he thought was his fifth drink, a tall brown haired boy came to take a seat on the stool besides him and asked a gin to the bartender. At first, Brendon barely noticed him, but then he glanced at him and found himself unable to look away, _don't you have other stuff to think about tonight?_ He thought to himself. The young man turned to face him, his piercing cerulean eyes looking straight into Brendon's chocolate brown ones, earning a smile.

“I'm Spencer,” the young man said, holding out one hand towards Brendon.

“Uh, Brendon.”

“So, Brendon, what brought you here tonight?”

Brendon simply shrugged, you can't tell someone you just met that you want to get shitfaced in order to forget about the fact your parents got killed precisely ten years ago. He's had too many drinks to be able to formulate a lie, or even realize how simple it'd be to say he wanted to have a good time.

“Yeah, I don't really know what I'm doing here either, trying to forget how shitty this day has been so far, I guess.” he seemed lost in his thoughts, more like he was talking to himself than to Brendon, but it was appealing in a way. He looked almost ethereal with the neon lights of the bar reflecting in his drink, lighting up his face.

“Maybe we can drink and talk until we forget today and wake up tomorrow with absolutely no memory of the existence of this day?” Brendon said motionning at the bartender to serve him another drink.

“I think, that's the best idea I've heard all day.” they exchanged a smile and clinked glasses.

After that night of june, they met every night at the same time, in the exact same bar, it lasted for a couple of months, until the bar closed due to financial difficulties and Spencer's place became their new bubble. It didn't take them long to strenghten their bond and become more than simple hang out buddies afterwards.

When Brendon got kicked out of his apartment for the sole reason the landlord wanted his niece to live there, it seemed logical for both, Spencer and him, that they'd live together from then on. Every thing was normal for them, they were an ordinary couple living in a cheap apartment in Phoenix, until Spencer came home from work one evening and asked Brendon if they could talk. Brendon hadn't notice their relationship had changed, Spencer was acting the same, so it was much surprising for Brendon to hear his boyfriend ask him some space for a while.

Brendon got upset and started raising his voice resulting in Spencer yelling at him, with no further reflection, Brendon packed a few boxes and left, driving until he ran out of gas. Out of every city in this damn country he had to end up in Las Vegas again, the one place he didn't ever want to go back to, not after what had happened to his parents a few years prior.

Fast forward to the day after, he had spent the night in the closest, crappiest motel he found and could afford with so little money. And as if his return in Vegas couldn't be any worse, he ran into his cousin on his way out of the motel, the clingy hyperactive one he despised when they were both kids. He didn't want to exchange more than a few words, but she decided better and invited him to her father's café “in remembrance of the good ol' days” as she said.

Despite himself, he found himself explaining his situation and the reason of his return to Vegas. His cousin, Aelyn, was quick to propose him to live in one of her father's many apartments near the strip along with a job at the café. No matter what Brendon thought of her, he wasn't crazy enough to turn down such a nice offer.

“Great! I'll see you more often then, I live just below your brand new apartment,” she chirped excitedly, “it'll be exactly like-”

“The good ol' days.” he mumbled.

“How did you know that's what I was about to say?”

 

 

***

 

 

On every information channel, the news of Spencer's death was reported, they all felt compelled to report the death of someone they knew nothing of nor did they care about. Brendon quickly decided to turn off the TV and stay in complete silence, no matter how awkward it felt. He tried to take his mind off of Spencer, but every single place or action reminded him of the man he loved.

Soon after midnight, Brendon's doorbell resonates through the entire apartment, much to his surprise since he doesn't know anybody in this town anymore. His initial surprise fades when he sees his dear cousin standing on the doorstep, a large smile spread on her chubby face.

“Have you watched the news?” she says sounding panicked as she steps in, uninvited.

“Yes, like half of the population?”

“Didn't you say you come from Phoenix? Didn't you say you broke up with a Spencer?” she raised an eyebrow and stared at Brendon waiting for an answer that didn't seem to come just yet. “He's the kid from the news right?”

 _The kid,_ Brendon thinks, _you're three years younger than him._ He doesn't say anything, he simply nods, and just like that Aelyn wraps her arms around his shoulders, squeezing tightly, as if it was her job to comfort him. Brendon awkwardly placed both hands on her back and they held onto each other for a few more moments before pulling away.

“How do you feel?” there was an obvious mix of sadness and concern in her voice, not the exaggerated kind the anchorwoman had when she announced Spencer's death, but the kind his mom had when he was crying for reasons unknown to her. Nothing like the bitchy kid he once knew.

“I don't know, I haven't realized it happened yet, I still think I'm going to wake up or that he'll call me and apologize and ask me to come back home. So, right now, I feel like I should feel something strong but I don't.” his answer was as truthful as it could be and it freaked him out.

“Well, you know I'm here for you when reality hits you or something, as cousins we have to stick together and support each other in times like this.”

“Yeah, like you did when mom and dad died.” he spat out before he could control himself. She goes silent after that, it's not entirely Brendon's fault, this girl hasn't been nice to him, ever, and her being nice for once doesn't mean he has to act like their past never existed. However he can't help but feel ashamed of his sudden outburst.

“I can't blame you for holding a grudge on me, but, I'm sorry.” the cheerful tone in her voice is no longer there and the unusualness of this causes Brendon to feel weird about it all.

“We've both grown since then, we're different people now, at least I hope we are, and I know twelve-year-old Aelyn would have never apologized for anything, ever. So, I appreciate the fact you apologized.”

“Well, I wasn't an easy kid I must admit but neither were you, so maybe that's why you and I never got along and would rather be despicable to each other.” her cheerful tone returned slowly.

“Truce?”

“Oh sweetie, I thought I'd never hear you say that ever again.” she squealed as a large smile returned to her face, back where it belongs.

Brendon shakes his head and rolls his eyes even though he's smiling for the first time in the past few days.

When Aelyn and him were both kids, their parents were close so they happened to see one another quite often. Almost every single time they engaged in a fight over the smallest thing, such as who would lick the spoon when they made cookies, or who would get to sit in the victorian armchair Aelyn's parents had in the living room.

When the yelling from the two kids didn't stop their parents came to make them stop and asked them to call a truce, and just like that, the one who wanted to look like the nice kid asked the other for truce and they hugged it out. It quickly became an habit. But they grew and even though their parents still wanted them to call a truce, they decided they were too old for that and it resulted to them hiding when they wanted to fight and acting nice in front of the family.

All four of their parents were relieved to see the cousins act so nicely to each other, and often laughed over the memories of their childhood when the pair would fight for the most ridiculous thing.

Maybe this time they'd be able to call a truce honestly, and not simply because one of their parents asked them to do so.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, the second chapter! (I know it's really confusing that Chapter 2 is under the name of Chapter 3) 
> 
> It took a little more time than expected to post this second chapter and I'm sorry, but it's here now and on Christmas day, how cool is that? I hope you spent a great time yesterday as well as today, and that you'll love reading this new chapter.

**_LAS VEGAS, 2002_ **

 

Why did it have to be them? Out of all the vicious people living in Las Vegas, anybody would have been the perfect target. But no, it had to happen to a virtuous couple living in the suburbs.

On Saturday morning, Brendon got up and walked downstairs to eat his breakfast, but surprisingly, neither one of his parents was there cooking or reading the paper. Weird, he thought and decided to go check in on his parents to make sure they weren't sick. He didn't expect to see both of his parents lying on the bed in their usual sleeping position, partly covered with what could only be blood.

Panicked, he tried to wake them up, convinced they'd open their eyes at any minute and all this blood would only be some fruit juice one of them happened to spill. But their eyes didn't open. He tried to pinch his arm, punch himself in the guts but he didn't wake up either and was left with no other choice than accepting this as reality.

And that's how he ended up sitting on his uncle's couch, with his aunt's hand slowly rubbing circles at the top of his back, in attempt to soothe him. His parents' funeral was planned later today the same day, all of their friends from church had been invited, and even if they hadn't been, Brendon's pretty sure they would have showed up anyway.

Everybody will tell him how much they loved his parents, and how they know how he feels and that they're here for him, when they were the first to talk about him behind his back at church service on Sundays. They kept saying something was wrong with him, just because he didn't go to church every week. But you can be an evil human being, hurt everybody around you and still go to church, you can be the most virtuous person and not go to church, that's what these people don't seem to understand.

They never cared about him, they have no idea of how he feels but they'll still pretend they do, and just thinking about it made him sick.

After a few minutes spent in the warm embrace of his aunt, he decided to go upstairs and stay alone for a while. It's nice to have family support in such a rough time but being looked at with sad eyes and talked to like he was still a child made him feel even sadder than he already was. When everybody tip toes around you, you can't escape the thoughts about what happened, you're stuck with them at every second.

Of course, his alone time was interrupted by the door opening loudly and banging the wall in the process. He looked up from the drawing he had just started and saw his favorite cousin stepping in, without even a glance in his direction.

“What the fuck are you doing here? Didn't your parents teach you to knock?”

“Technically, it's still _my_ house so I can do as I please and go wherever I want to.” the little girl said finally looking at her cousin.

“I know this isn't something you are used to, but there's something called respect, and normal people with actual brains know how to use it when it's needed.”

“Don't think I'm going to start acting nice to you, dickhead, just because you're an orphan now.” she spits out and walk out with a book in her hands. Brendon doesn't add anything, not even when she doesn't shut the door behind her and he needs to get up to close it himself.

He doesn't need her pity but he thought she'd be a decent person for once, she had been close to his parents, she lost them too, but she was completely insensitive to this situation and even less about what he feels. Being a twelve-year-old doesn't excuse everything.

 

 

***

 

 

The funeral was exactly how Brendon expected, hypocrites hugging him, trying to look compassionate, every single one of them telling him the same sentence, like an army of robots sent to make this day even worse than it already was. His aunt was the only person whom he felt was genuine with him, she'd been sitting next to him silently for the past hour, just running her fingers on his knee. She knew he was fed up with all those hugs, she knew he just wanted to feel someone close to him, someone who actually cares.

He stared at his hands on his lap, fiddling with his fingers, trying his best not to breakdown in front of people who'd look at him with what they think would be compassion, but would be closer to the look you give to a grenade that could explode at any second.

“Your parents would be proud of how you're handling the situation, you are a strong kid, but you can show weakness once in a while. It's okay to cry, honey.”

For the first time in the past hour or so, Brendon looked up at his aunt and said “Dad wouldn't like to see me cry, you should know that, I'm a man, not a little child anymore.”

“Your father was conservative in many ways but crying over his death is something he would approve of. We were around your age when your grandma died in a carcrash, he didn't cry, he wanted to show his little sister that a man was strong, no matter the situation. And you know what happened?” as she spoke she moved her hand from his knee to the top of his back, playing with the hair on the nape of his neck. “He broke down not long after the funeral,” she continued when Brendon shaked his head, “the idea that men need to be strong is bullshit,” Brendon's head shot up when he heard such a word coming out of his aunt's mouth, “It's an excuse used to prevent men from showing emotions, as if emotions were exclusively feminine.They're not, emotions are human, keeping everything bottled up is not helping at all, and it is certainly not a sign of strength, it's caused by pride. Strength is letting yourself feel these emotions, and still be able to overcome them.”

“I-” he took a deep breath to calm himself down and keep the tears inside, “I don't want these people to see me vulnerable, they already think they're bigger than me, I don't want to give them any more reasons to think that way.”

His aunt nodded slowly and pressed a soft kiss on her nephew's temple, “Tell me when you want to go home, okay?”

Brendon humed just as a male voice called out “Mary?”.

Brendon's aunt quickly kissed the top of his head and went to join the group in which the man who called her was in. It suddenly didn't seem certain that the decision to go home was solely in Brendon's hands.

“I want to leave,” a cheery yet annoyed voice said from beside Brendon, for once he agreed with his cousin and which didn't happen often, in fact, it never happened. “Everybody's talking to me about you, it's annoying, if they want to know shit they can ask you, it's not like we're close or something.”

“Not everything has to be about you Aelyn, plus, they ask about me but they don't care, they're trying to be polite, nothing to be envious about.”

“I have the best grades of my class, I recently became a woman, I deserve people's recognition but they don't care, all they care about is you. My own parents aren't even proud I won the writing contest at school the other day.” she whined and it almost felt like it would never end.

“Oh sorry your parents aren't praising you for winning a stupid contest, what an awful thing, it's not like, I don't know, they were dead or something.” he blinked rapidly not wanting to cry, not now, and certainly not in front of this little pest.

“Well, at least you can't disappoint them anymore.”

“I wish you were six feet underground instead of my parents,” he stood up quickly and smoothed down his shirt, under the eyes of a shocked pre-teen, “tell your mom I'm going home.”

On the walk back home, or at least, where he currently had to stay, tears started streaming down his face, his wet skin feeling cold as the wind crashing against his cheeks. He knew, he knew he disappointed his parents more than once, but it stung coming from someone else's mouth, even from someone as despicable as Aelyn.

He'd like to think despite all these times his parents got angry with him, they were still proud of him and loved him unconditionally, the way he loved them even though they fought quite often. Just like the other day, they had a fight, there was yelling and sharp words and slamming of doors. But despite that, he still loved them, deep down, no matter what he said when he was on nerves.

His parents, too, had said quite awful words to him that night, words that made his heart hurt, he wanted to think they didn't mean it just like he didn't mean what he had said, but he didn't know. And he won't ever know, they were gone now.

He shouldn't be here, standing in front of his parents' graves, but he was, his family didn't leave him some any alone time with them after they'd been burried. He sat down and hugged his knees, his vision blurring as he started to fall apart, he didn't have to show off what a strong man he is here, he was by himself.

“I miss you,” he choked out through loud sobs. “Mom, I miss your hugs and how you always treated me like I was going to break and had to be protected, I hated it but still, I miss it, who will give me that much love now that you're gone, huh?”

An old woman kneeled in front of a grave a few feet away from Brendon, forcing him to slightly lower his voice, he didn't want to bother this woman nor attract her attention.

“Dad,” he almost whispered, “I'm not the man you wanted me to be, and I'm sorry I disappointed you, I miss- God I don't even know what I miss, I think, I will miss the roll of your eyes when I word wishes or thoughts you think are silly. You'd certainly think I'm being silly for talking to the both of you right now, I think I am too but- today has been really hard...”

After a soft kiss on the cold stone of his mother's grave, Brendon got up and decided to finally go back to what he was supposed to call home now.

As soon as he stepped inside the entryway, his aunt appeared in front of him, her eyes scanning him as if to make sure he was okay. “Why didn't you tell me you were leaving?” she sounded panicked, guilt instantly started to bloom in her nephew's head.

“I didn't want to bother you, you were busy talking to uncle Edmond, plus I wanted to spend some time alone.”

“You could have said just that then, I wouldn't have worried.” technically he had told her he was leaving, he told Aelyn who was supposed to tell her.

“I told Aelyn I wanted to go home.”

“Are you sure? Because she came up to me to tell me she saw you leaving without a word, we came back here but you were nowhere to be found.” She just now started to calm down and she was already panicking again.

“Yes I'm sure, I know what I said.”

“Why would she lie, Brendon?” Of course, she believed her precious daughter, even though Aelyn was the absolute worst person Brendon had ever met in his short life.

He didn't bother answering and went upstairs, in his 'bedroom', he passed by his cousin's door which had been left ajar. He glanced inside and saw her sitting on her bed with a phone pressed to her ear.

“... why does everybody think I'm overreacting? I-what? No I am fucking not! I- but- yes I know, it should've been me in one of these fucking coffins I know!!” she hangs up and a second later her phone had been thrown into the wall.

Typical of Aelyn, Brendon says one thing and she thinks the whole world is against her, she's been awful with him so he wanted to give her a taste of her own medicine and said something to hurt her. He didn't actually wish for her death, he thought she'd have forgotten about it by now. But of course she had to overreact as she always does.


	4. Chapter 4

_**LAS VEGAS, present day.**_

 

“I hope you didn't eat breakfast yet, I brought a few cupcakes.” Aelyn half-shouts enthusiastically as she enters her cousin's apartment with a spare key the previous lodger left to the landlord. Much to her surprise Brendon is nowhere to be seen, she sighs and put the box of cupcakes on the kitchen table. “Hello?” she shouts louder. No response.

She didn't hear anything when she got up earlier in the morning, she'd have heard if Brendon would have left his apartment to go God knows where. She opens his bedroom door as slowly as she can, and as she steps in she finds a sleepy Brendon tightly wrapped in sheets. The daylight coming in from behind the curtains doesn't seem to bother his slumber, Aelyn wonders how, since she can't sleep unless she's in complete darkness.

“Hey, sleeping beauty, it's time to get up.” she says in a whisper, her right hand busy delicately pushing Brendon's hair out of his face. Soon enough a groan echoes in the room and Brendon turns around, facing the opposite way.

“Come on, I brought cupcakes.” it doesn't take more for Brendon to sit up on the bed rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

“How many?”

“Two for me, three for you. I ate one before I came here.”

“Five then, good, that's good.”

Once Brendon decides it's time to get out of bed, they can finally eat the cupcakes Aelyn brought with her. Brendon doesn't even wait to sit to start stuffing his mouth with cupcakes.

“wa ryu ehan eehuh?”

“Swallow then speak.” she says in a motherly tone.

“First of all, I'm the eldest here so you don't get to treat me like a baby, and then, I asked why are you here.”

“You're more of a child than you think,” she points out smiling when she sees him taking a large bite of a cupcake getting topping on the tip of his nose, “and I had all these cupcakes that I took from work yesterday so I decided to share them with my dear cousin.”

“And since when am I your dear cousin?”

“Since I'm using sarcasm, and please wipe your nose, I can't take you seriously with topping on it.” she laughs brightly, watching Brendon wipe his nose frantically with his bare hand.

“Why don't you just get the fuck out of here then?”

“Truce didn't last for long huh?” she says, taken aback by the sudden change of atmosphere. The only response she got was a blank stare from the other side of the table. “Look, I didn't mean to upset you, I was being playful. I wouldn't be here bringing you the right amount of cupcakes otherwise.”

“Sorry,” Brendon mumbles from the opposite side of the table, “it's just,” he pauses furrowing his eyebrows in confusion, “I'm tired and I'm used to the old you.”

“Forgiven. By the way, dad wants to see you to talk about the job available for you at the café, it'd be nice if you could go there before midday.”

“Still right next to the cabaret?”

“Oh God no,” she says in a laugh, “well it's still the same building, it's just the cabaret that's not there anymore, it closed two years ago after they found cocaine in the owner's office.”

“No way!” Brendon gasps moking surprise, “cocaine in a night business in Las Vegas? Unbelievable!”

“I know! Who would have thought?” they both laugh light-heartedly, the slight tension from a few minutes prior dispersing entirely.

“You're working today?” Brendon asks after their laughter die down.

“Nope, I have my Thursdays off, it's nice to have a break in the middle of the week. Why are you asking?”

“I just thought we could have gone together since uncle Brochan wants to see me, but it's fine, I'll go by myself, I'm a big boy.” a nervous laugh escapes from his lips.

“Well, I'm going on a date with Laurence at lunch time, and I have to get ready for it, but I think I have enough time to go to the café with you if you want me to.”

 

***

 

The café is exactly the same as it was before Brendon left ages ago, Brochan has always been a cabin lover, the family owns a cabin in Lake Tahoe and they go there any chance they get. Brochan went there on vacation when he was a kid, his favorite memories from his childhood took place there. He associates cabins with happiness, it's no surprise he decided to make his café look like one, it's his own way to share the experience of going in a cabin with people who might never have this opportunity.

Brendon used to go to the cabin every year for Christmas with his parents, the entire family was always invited, there were so many people that it felt weird to go back home after that, it felt lonely and oddly calm. He never actually wanted to go, but once he was there he didn't want to leave anymore. There's a soothing feeling in being amongst such an important amount of people, no matter how annoying or unnerving they might be. Even though he never fell in love with the cabin, he can understand why his uncle did.

Brochan knows where his favorite place on earth is, he knows a place where everything seems to be fine. Brendon can't help but to be envious of him, every places he's ever loved has been tarnished by dark events. Nowhere on earth is as perfect to Brendon as the cabin is to Brochan.

The smell of wood has a calming effect on Brendon's nerves, he feels less nervous about seeing Brochan than he did when he stepped inside the café. He left quite abruptly almost a decade ago, one morning he left a note on the bed he occupied at the time and drove away. He never came back before today, God knows what Brochan might think, how he reacted at the time, how he will react to seeing Brendon again. But after all, if there was any reason for Brendon to be nervous, Brochan wouldn't have offered him a job, right? Unless it's one of Aelyn's vicious trap? It's not normal that she's nice.

“Brendon, hey oh,” Aelyn says slowly, waving her hand in front of Brendon's face, “are you okay?”

“Is this one of your trap?” he blurts out before he can think twice.

“Is what one of my trap?”

“All of this, the job, coming here to see Brochan.”

“Why would it be a trap? What are you talking about? Dad was looking for someone to hire and you arrived in town right on time, I knew he'd want you to have the job, you're his nephew and he's always liked you, a whole lot.” she sighs and hunches her shoulders, “I get that you don't trust me, but how could _this_ be a trap?”

“Brochan might hate me, how would I know? I left forever ago.”

“He doesn't hate you, you're not in a fourth dimension Brendon, it's not because there's been a radical change with me that it happened to everybody. He was sad after you left, believe it or not, we all were,” she laughs brightly when Brendon raises his eyebrows in surprise, “yes even me. Surprised?”

He nods energetically, “very. Why?”

“Who knows,” she shrugs, “I hated you so much, you have no idea, or maybe you do because you hated me just as much, but once you were gone, I-” she pauses, swallowing, “you couldn't fuel my hatred anymore.”

“And the unthinkable happened, the little pest turned into a nice person, I should've left sooner.”

“I've always been nice, just, not to you.”

“I take back what I just said, you're still a little pest.” they both laugh brightly earning glares from the few customers in the room sat at a table in the corner.

Their laughter stops completely as soon as they hear someone clearing their throat, they both turn in the direction of the new arrival and see a chubby man with glaucous eyes and salt and pepper hair standing with his arms crossed on his chest, Brochan.

“Well, well, well, would you look at that, little Brendon turned into a man. It's good to see you kid.” the middle-aged man wraps his nephew in a one arm hug, appeasing Brendon's nerves.

“It's good to see you too Uncle Brochan.”

“Follow me, it has been so long, we need to catch up.”

All three of them go into the back of the store, sitting at a table in the employees break room. The room is smaller than Brendon's bedroom, just big enough to fit a table and a coffee machine inside. The strong smell of coffee helps to make the room more welcoming, creating the perfect atmosphere to relax on your break.

They talk for a while, catching up on what happened in one another's lives in the past ten years. Brendon tell them about his lover that he met in Phoenix and recently broke up with, making sure not to mention that his lover was a guy. Even though, Aelyn already knows about it, he doesn't want to mention that detail in front of his very conservative uncle.

His thoughts drift towards his first experience with another boy and how his uncle had reacted to it at the time.

A bit less than a year after his parents' funeral, Brendon met a boy at a party, a beautiful dark haired boy with hazel eyes, he was slightly older, in his first year of college. After a drink or two, things got heated between them, and they ended up making out in Brendon's car in front of the house where the party took place.

At the time, the world must have hated him because none other than Aelyn walked up and saw them, disheveled, with Brendon straddling the college boy on the backseat of the car. She had said that she was sleeping at one of her friends' house that night, so why she was standing there on the sidewalk in the middle of the night staring at Brendon with wide eyes was a complete mystery, and still is.

When morning came, she hastened to tell her parents about how she saw Brendon making out with a strange boy on her way back home from school the previous day. Of course, she lied about the circumstances of her discovery otherwise she'd have been in trouble, supposedly at least.

Brendon got asked about what Aelyn told her parents, as soon as he got up, the look on his face gave him away and he got punished for having an “indecent behaviour”. After that, he made sure to be more careful about where he made out with other boys.

So it's obvious that still today, he doesn't want to mention his attraction to men, not only because he wants to avoid getting judged but also because he desperately needs this job if he wants to be able to live decently.

Brochan enthusiastically listen to Brendon talk about his life in Phoenix and is quick to tell him about how his aunt started working as a wedding photographer along with her job as an event planner. Apparently the café works better than ever and he even think about opening a second one in the suburbs.

They share details about their lives and reminisce their memories about the years they spent all together. Soon enough, Brendon forgets why he was so anxious about coming here and talking to his uncle, it almost feels like he came back home after a short vacation not so far away.

When the clock shows precisely 10:57AM, Aelyn stands up abruptly smoothing down her dress, under the disapproving gaze of her father at such an impolite behaviour.

“I need to leave, I, have something to do.” she says looking back and forth between Brendon and her father.

“And where are you going that is more interesting than catching up with your cousin? And that, additionally, has the ability to make you lose your manners?”

“I,” she sighs loudly, “have a date?” she didn't mean it to come out as a question but it did anyway.

“Ah, finally, you should invite him at home one day, God, we thought something was up with you.” he laughs softly, shaking his head as if to say his worry was ridiculous.

“I'm not going to bring a guy I saw three times at my family's house, dad.”

“Fine. Just try not to mess things up, it already took you long enough to find someone.”

Never in his life, would Brendon have thought he'd hear his uncle talk to Aelyn the way he just did. Maybe Aelyn was wrong and they really entered some sort of fourth dimension, Brochan talking this way to his precious perfect daughter wouldn't happen otherwise. Brendon can't help but feel uncomfortable, especially when he sees how hurt his cousin's look.

She turns around without another word, in a hurry to leave, Brendon wants to say something to her, not to let her leave upset, but he stays quiet.

“So, about the job, I need someone behind the counter, Riley does a great job but we're getting more and more customers and they get anxious when they see and talk to too many people in the same day. I thought they could help me in the back of the store, and you could serve the customers.” Brochan explains quietly while Brendon wonders what there is to do in the back of the store of a café, especially for two people.

“That's great! I worked at a store in Phoenix, it was different but serving customers is something I'm used to do. Wouldn't Riley get upset about it though?”

“Oh no, trust me they'll be happy about it, it means no more panic attacks in the break room in the middle of the day.”

“Awesome. When do you need me to start?”

“Tomorrow would be perfect, I have to give you a few details then I'll give your uniform and you'll be good to go for your last day unemployed.”

Brochan stands up as soon as he's done talking and Brendon mimicks him, following him outside the break room and further in the back of the store where surprisingly a kitchen has been set up in a corner. Brochan explains that it's where he cooks the customers' orders for breakfast and lunch, from Mondays to Saturdays except for Thursdays where he doesn't have any waitress to serve. That's what there is to do in the back of the store then.

Way back when Brendon was still a teenager, the café only offered drinks of all sort, it's nice to see that his uncle's business has grown in the past decade.

After showing him the little there is to show in the back of the store, Brochan talks to Brendon about his working hours and the uniform. Precising that he will work everyday of the week except for Thursdays where Brochan goes behind the counter since he doesn't have to cook breakfast nor lunch. As well as wear ivory-colored pants along with a boysenberry polo shirt and his nametag, but it goes without saying.

When Brendon exits the café, he feels lighter, as if a burden has been lifted from his shoulders, allowing him to be in peace and go on with his day normally.

The first thing on his mind when he's back in his apartment is that he should call Spencer, tell him what happened and how good it feels to be back in a town you hate and find out that people who loves you exist there.

He even dials the number before he realizes that Spencer won't pick up the phone, the reason he came here in the first place is because Spencer and him fought. He'd apologize if only he wouldn't have heard a heartless anchorwoman announcing the death of the man he loved a couple of nights after his arrival.

His happiness is quick to vanish, how could he even be happy when Spencer is no longer a part of this world? Being happy in such circumstances disgusts him with himself.

 


	5. Chapter 5

The clock reads 7:50AM when he enters the café, one of the perks of working a few blocks away from your apartment is that you arrive perfectly on time, even earlier than expected. At least, now he knows he can sleep a little bit longer in the morning.  
  
The café doesn't open its doors until 8:30AM but the employees are bound to be present half an hour before.

Aelyn is sat at a table in the far corner next to the window, writing or drawing, Brendon doesn't know, he can only see her hand frantically running a pencil across a piece of paper. She seems lost in her thoughts with her headphones on, as if for a moment the world surrounding her no longer existed.

Brendon sits down on the opposite side of the table, and sees that what Aelyn's doing is a beautiful portrait of what looks like a scarily humanlike porcelain doll with a few words scribbled in the left corner. Her movements slow down gradually until it stops completely, she tilts her head to the side and jumps in surprise as this new angle allows her to see her cousin sitting in front of her, staring.

“You scared the crap out of me,” she says lightly, taking off her headphones.

“I noticed. It's really good,” he nods towards the drawing, “you went to art school?”

“I wish,” she sighs, “maybe like that I could've gotten better, but you know my parents, what kind of irresponsible people would they be if they'd have let their only child go to an art school?”

“Do you want to be broke all your life? Live in some shady motels filled with roaches and only cold water?” he says imitating his uncle's voice. He knows that kind of speeches oh too well, his parents went wild when he just insinuated he wanted to study music, they thought he was too young to be able to choose a career seriously. He was only fourteen at the time but he knew what he wanted.

“That's exactly what he said and my mom was agreeing with him, on the verge of tears just thinking about her daughter living in such a place.” she stretches over the back of her chair, the cracking sounds of her back resonating in the empty café.

“So what did you study instead of art?”

“Economics, I was awful at maths but I managed to graduate and look where I am, I have the same job I would've had if I went to art school. But it's cooler to talk to your church friends about your daughter being a major in economics, I don't blame them for that though, you've got to keep up appearances. I just wish they didn't talk about me all the time at church.”

“You used to adore being the center of attention, who are you?”

“Still me,” she laughs brightly, “I still like being the center of attention, just not when it's to talk about how I should have gone to medical school like Mrs. Faltstrom's daughter or about how worrying it is that I'm not married yet when all the picture perfect daughters of the church assholes are all married and mothers already.”

“They probably think you're lesbian.”

“Oh don't worry the rumor went around for a while, my parents even made me sit at the kitchen table to talk about it, they were worried you might have rubbed off some on me.”

“First off, I'm not gay, I'm bi and ugh,” he rolls his eyes dramatically, “church people.”

“Don't tell them that, they'd get heart attacks, wait, you know what? Do it.” they both laugh at that glancing towards the door leading to the back of the café to make sure Brochan wasn't anywhere near them.

“More seriously, who cares if you're not married yet? You have all the time in the world, same goes for kids, we're in 2015, we're not forced to settle down and have a family as soon as we turn twenty. It's ridiculous.”

“Yeah, well, I'm twenty-five, which means eighty in church people's minds, plus, wait until they find out I'm never going to have kids, I'm gonna be burned at the stake.”

“You don't want kids?”

“Too much responsibility,” she shrugs, “and you have to make them, go through sex, pregnancy, labour, so no thanks.”

“Sex is the best part about having kids though.”

“Not for all of us.”

“How?” he frowns, genuinely confused.

“Do you like pineapples?”

“No, but-”

“But some people do, it's the same with sex, some people love it, some people tolerate it and some people don't like it.” she says calmly leaning on the table.

“It makes sense, well I don't understand it but I guess pineapples lovers can't understand I hate pineapples right?”

“Yes, exactly,” she smiles brightly at that, fidgeting excitedly on her seat. It confuses Brendon at first, to see her so excited about him getting it, but then he realizes it probably doesn't happen too often.

“What about your date? How did it go?”

“Great, Laurence's a sweetheart, every time I see him, I leave with a big smile on my face and excitement to see him again.”

_When are you not smiling?_ Brendon thinks, since he arrived in town not once did he see her without a genuine smile on her face, except maybe for yesterday when Brochan has been a dick to her.

“What is he like?” he asks her, interested in knowing more about the man who makes his cousin so happy.

“He's a beautiful dark haired man with green eyes, he grew up in Bristol in England but he arrived here a couple of years ago, he's writing for the Las Vegas Sun even though he had to fight to be published because he's not used to write in an american manner and he's _really_ sweet.”

“It's nice to see you swoon over someone, I feel like it was only yesterday I felt that way over Spencer.” he sighs and stands up quickly, “time to get ready for work, the café opens in five minutes.”

Aelyn nods and put her material away in her bag before standing up and smoothing down her polo shirt. She steps closer to Brendon and wraps him in a tight warm hug, much to his surprise, he stands there for a while his arms awkwardly hanging by his sides. When she doesn't let go, he places his arms around her waist and holds her tightly against him.

Never in their lives did they hug each other, even when forced by their parents at family gatherings, it should feel awkward to hug for the very first time, and it did at first, but somehow it died down rather quickly and got replaced by something neither of us are used to feel in one another's presence.

“I'm going to a party tonight, you should come with me, it's better than staying at home being the perfect prey for your negative thoughts.” Aelyn says incredibly softly after they pull away from their tight embrace.

“I'm no longer a party animal, but it's nice to offer.”

“Our parties aren't the type you're used to, trust me, think about it at least, okay?” he nods just as an ash-blond haired kid bursts in the café, visibly out of breath and cursing quietly. Brendon supposes it must be Riley, the anxious kid who occupied his new job a couple of days ago.

Riley calms down as soon as they notice that the café is completely empty except for their two colleagues standing in the corner. Aelyn waves at them enthusiastically and rapidly go to hug them so tightly Brendon's certain he sees Riley's feet lifting from the ground along with a reddish tint on their cheeks.

 

***

 

“I'm so exhausted I could fall asleep right in the middle of a service, on my way to the table with plates in my hands, a second I'm standing, the next I'm lying face first on the floor with scrambled eggs everywhere around my poor tortured body.” Aelyn leans against the back of the counter next to Brendon who just served one of the regular customers.

“Do you ever stop complaining?” Brendon asks with a roll of eyes.

“Be the waiter for a while, you'll see.”

“I'm standing in the exact same spot the entire day, I took no more than five steps since this morning. If you want to play the 'boo poor little me' game you'll lose. And come on, it could be way worse than it is.”

“You got a point, but complaining relieves tension, it helps relax the mind and the body.”

“As if that's the only reason why you do it.”

“Shh,” she laughs softly, “so are you coming to the party later?”

“I didn't think about it yet.”

“Actually, I'm only asking to be polite, you're definitely coming with me.”

Brochan pokes his head in the front of the café, his gaze quickly settling on his daughter and nephew, “closing time kids, Aelyn vacuums today and Brendon, you clean the tables and the counter, okay?” he doesn't even wait for an answer before going back to whatever he was doing.

Both of them sigh but still do exactly what they were asked to, Aelyn closes the door and quickly goes in the back of the store to pick up the vacuum while Brendon gives the counter a wipe. She comes back at the speed of light and immediately start vacuuming, Brendon briefly wonders if it's one of those new vacuum that don't emit any sound. The silence is deafening.

When Brendon is done with cleaning the tables, Aelyn is only half-done with the vacuum, not once did Brendon got bothered by the cable while cleaning, which should be a good thing, but instead it just confuses him. He turns towards his cousin and notices that indeed, there is no cable, therefore, the vacuum was off the entire time.

Aelyn stops abruptly when she hears Brendon bursting out in laughter behind her back, she turns to him and raises a questioning eyebrow. It only results in Brendon laughing harder, to the point he falls on the floor, right on his ass.

“Will you tell me what's so funny?” she kicks him playfully in the thigh.

“Th-th-the,” he breathes out, attempting to calm down, “the vacuum,” he finally says, wiping his eyes, “it's not working.”

“Dad bought a silent vacuum, he saw it on tv once and thought it was genius so he decided to buy one for the café.”

“But it has to be plugged in to work doesn't it?” his laughter starts again when Aelyn looks frantically around her, shrieking and cursing when she sees that, in fact, the vacuum wasn't plugged in.

“Avocados,” she says looking at the clock, “I'll be late to the party.”

“Avocados?” Brendon asks in the middle of his laughter frenzy.

“A friend of mine once told me that instead of cursing you could just use the first word that comes in your mind.” she frowns when Brendon laughs harder, holding his sides.

The door leading to the back of the café opens, catching Aelyn's attention, Riley come in, putting on their jacket. They eye Brendon weirdly before walking up to Aelyn to say goodbye. She hugs them just as tightly as she did in the morning and gives them a kiss on the cheek, before pulling away.

“What's up with him?” they ask.

“I'm an idiot and forgot to plug the vacuum, he noticed and since then, he's like that.” she motions in Brendon's direction, rolling her eyes, “I have a party tonight and I'm going to be late now.”

“We vacuum every evening, it's not dirty, you'll do it twice better tomorrow.”

“Thanks for the cheer up, what are we going to do with him though?” she tilts her head towards Brendon who's stopped laughing like freak and is just giggling now.

“Leave him here?” Riley proposes and it honestly is a tempting idea for a second, but she shakes her head and holds her hand out to help Brendon stand up.

“I have the right to have a good laugh, since when is it a crime?” Brendon pouts dusting off his ass dramatically.

“It's not, but I think your nerves were also involved in the reason of your laughter.”

“I'm leaving, see you tomorrow.” Riley awkwardly wave at Brendon before exiting the café, soon followed by his co-workers after Aelyn went to kiss her father goodbye.

 

***

 

It took some convincing but Brendon finally accepted to go to the party with Aelyn, he even put on a nice outfit for the occasion. When they arrive in front of what could be mistaken for an hangar, they're only an hour late despite Aelyn's efforts to put make up on as quickly as she could without messing it up.

A thick dark-haired young woman opens the door, a bright smile plastered on her face, she is glowing under the lights coming from inside the hangar, she's gorgeous. The young woman looks at Brendon from head to toe, her smile never faltering, as if it would be enough to understand everything about who he is and what his intentions are. She then turns her attention to Aelyn whom she greets with a soft kiss on the mouth, before letting the both of them inside, earning Aelyn an inquisitive look from Brendon.

The inside of the hangar has been converted into a living place, a couple of futons have been arranged in two of the corners of the room, a kitchenette is facing the main door while another is on the wall adjacent to the entryway leading, Brendon supposes, to a bathroom. A bunch of cushions are placed in circle on a large persian carpet in the exact middle of the room.

“See this painted wall over there?” Aelyn asks Brendon quietly, pointing to the wall behind the futons, “I painted it for them when they decided to move in here,” she continues once Brendon nods.

“The whole thing?” she nods, a proud smile forming on her plum colored lips, “it must have taken months, the wall is probably nine by twenty.”

“It actually took three entire weeks, working from 6AM to 11PM, it was worth it, one of the rare times I used colors, Devonne wanted bright colors and Adam agreed but only if it gave the apartment a 'pop art vibe'.” she explains enthusiastically, staring at her largest piece of art lovingly.

The stunning woman who opened the door earlier seems in a deep conversation with a much taller and lanky man who's holding a beer in his left hand, he looks bored but his energetic movements contradicts this first impression.

Aelyn notices her cousin staring and follows his gaze to see what might have attracted his complete attention. She smiles and elbows him in the ribs, successfully getting his attention back to her.

“Her name's Devonne, and the handsome man she's talking to is Ryan, I've known both of them since what seems to be forever, they're amazing friends. The ginger girl over there is Woolridge and the two men she's talking to are Adam and Jon, they're brothers.”

“That's a lot of information to remember, and we're seven people in this room, but if I don't count myself we're left with six so I'll just not count myself.”

“Oh, it's the same with the number of people? I didn't know that.”

“It's fine.” he smiles nervously, “so, you and Devonne?” he raises an eyebrow, letting his nervous smile turn into a playful one.

“What?” she pauses, “oh, it's a habit we have to greet each other that way, nothing ever happened between her and I. I had a crush on Ryan for awhile though but that was when we first met. He just gives this hypnotizing vibe, you're just drawn to him, you can't help it. And he's the sweetest guy I know.”

“And nothing happened between you guys?”

“No, and looking back now, I'm kind of glad nothing happened.”

“What about Riley then?”

“Wow slow down there big boy,” she laughs brightly and raises her eyebrows at him, “what is this questioning about every single person I know?”

“Sorry, it's just, they blush every time you hug them, I'm just curious, sorry.”

“It's fine, I'm just being playful, and I don't think Riley has a crush on me, they blush all the time. I'm not attracting everybody Brendon but I'm flattered you think I do.”

 

***

 

Aelyn didn't lie when she told Brendon it wasn't the kind of party he was used to when he was younger. There's no deafening music, only pop songs from the 80s being played at a reasonable volume so that they can all have an actual conversation. No alcohol, no drugs, no cigarettes, only food, candies and smoothies. Nobody is making out somewhere in a dark corner, nobody is getting involved into a useless fight. Instead, they're all sitting in circle on their own cushion, in the middle of the room, Brendon sitting between Aelyn and Ryan.

This 'party' sounds like a sleepover with a bunch of pre-teen, and maybe that is why nights like this one seem to be special to Aelyn, for a few hours you can forget about whatever is on your mind and appreciate the moments you can spend with your close friends. And you feel just as good the morning after, unlike when you wake up half-deaf and with a hangover.

“Find a partner, I want to play partners in pen.” Devonne says with a mouth full of jujyfruits.

“What is that?” Brendon asks a bit louder than he intended to.

“Each pair sits back to back, one with a paper and a pen, the other has a bag full of odd objects. The one with the bag needs to pick an object and describe it to the drawer who needs to draw it in order to find out what the object is.” Ryan explains calmly taking a sip of his green tea. 

“Sounds fun.”

“It is. Well unless you are playing against me, then, you lose so consequently it is less amusing.”

“Do I need to remind you who kicked your ass the last time we played this game?” Aelyn intervenes getting attention from both of the men sitting next to her.

“Only because I teamed up with Woolridge and she has an interesting way of describing objects, nobody can understand what she is talking about.” Ryan whines, getting a middle finger from Woolridge on the other side of the cushion circle.

They all pick a partner and sit back to back, Aelyn with Brendon, Ryan with Devonne and Woolridge with Jon while Adam supervises the game since they're an odd number. When comes the cousins' turn, Aelyn is obviously the drawer, and everyone stares at them intently, impatient to see if Brendon would be any good at this game.

“Oh,” he says when he picks up a toothbrush from the bag, well it's easier than the cow mug Woolridge had to describe earlier, “it's long and thin?”

“Is it Ryan?” Aelyn asks making all of them laugh except for Ryan who's pouting, unamused. She winks at him and starts by drawing a stick.

“It has a hairy head, but only on one side of it.”

“A toothbrush!” Aelyn shrieks excitedly.

“It is unfair, they got one of the simplest object to describe, of course it was easy for Aelyn to find out what it was. I request a second round.” Ryan whines, being the sore loser he is.

They make fun of Ryan's whinning for a moment before eating some more, discussing what's been going on in one another's lives lately. Brendon omits to mention the death of his ex-boyfriend, and explains that he came back after having spent ten years away from his hometown, and immediately found a job thanks to his family. They listen to him, genuinely interested in what he has to say, and it makes him feel even better than he was already feeling throughout the whole night.

He doesn't even remember why he didn't want to come in the first place.

 


	6. Chapter 6

“That's bullshit!” Aelyn exclaims from where she's leaning against the armrest of the couch, a mug of green tea pressed tightly between her hands, “the red team should have won!”

“Admit the yellows were better this time, not everything is a conspiracy.”

“Are we watching the same show? That curly haired dude pushed Elaine and he hasn't been reprimanded!” she whines, taking a long sip of her tea.

They've been watching a reality game show on a foreign channel for a couple of hours now, and even though they have absolutely no idea what anyone is saying there, they still enjoy watching and commenting.

“The curly dude's named Lloris, and he didn't push Elaine, you're just searching reasons to contest the defeat of your team.”

“No I'm not, it's the truth, he pushed her, if you had one of those devices that allows you to rewind the show you're watching, I'd be able to prove it.” she kicks him in the thigh to stress on her discontentment to which Brendon replies with a tongue stuck out.

“Sore loser.”

“Ugh, you have no idea how frustrating your stubborness can be, seriously.”

“Are you talking to yourself?”

“Oh shut up.” she stands up and smoothes down her dress with her free hand before putting down her mug on the coffee table, “I have somewhere to go, so I can't stay with you any longer, which is a good thing because I might kill you otherwise.” she laughs brightly and places a soft kiss on the top of Brendon's head before exiting her cousin's apartment.

Brendon turns off the TV and the apartment is instantly filled with a deafening silence without Aelyn's ramblings nor the sound of the TV in the background. After a few minutes, he turns the TV back on and decides to flip through the channels; anything to keep the silence away.

He's always felt uncomfortable with silence, when he was a little kid, he used to start crying every single time he had to be in complete silence. His mother, quickly decided to buy him a cd player and a pair of headphones for him to listen to songs made for children whenever he had to stay in silence. His father had said that she was wrapping him in cotton wool and that he had to toughen up, that's what he always said, no matter what the circumstances might have been.

It's been more than twenty years now, and he still doesn't know why silence puts him in such a state. He might never know.

The feeling of his phone buzzing in his pocket, tears him out of his thoughts and brings him back to reality where he stopped flipping through the channels, a cartoon now on the screen.

He takes his phone out of his pocket and frowns when no name is showing on the screen, just a number, despite that, he decides to pick up. Answering with a hesitant, “hello?”

“I am just coming out of a store a few blocks away from your building, would you like to hang out? If you are occupied, there is no problem with me, I do not want to interrupt anything.” a monotone voice blurts out uncharacteristically fast.

“Sure?”

“Dude, am I bothering you right now? You sound like you would rather get rid of me.”

“No you're not bothering me. I just- who am I talking to?”

“Dude,” a soft laugh comes from the other end, “last time we hung out you told me you would add my number, I guess you did not. This is Ryan speaking to you.” Brendon half expects another 'dude' but it never comes. He should have known it was Ryan by the way he was talking.

They hung out a couple of days after the party in the hangar a few weeks ago, Ryan had told him to add his number so that it'd be easier for them to communicate, Brendon had said he would but he forgot and never did.

“You can come over, I assume you already know the building code since you're friends with Aelyn, so no need to give it to you.”

“Exactly. Well,” Brendon hears something clicking in between Ryan's words, “I heard the landlord has a tendency to change the code quite often so I might need an update once in a while you know? Why does he even do such a thing? I mean, it is not fort knox here.”

The door bell resonates in the entire apartment, making Brendon jump in surprise, he walks up to the door and sees Ryan on the other side when he's peeking through the spy hole.

“Can't bear to stay without me even long enough to climb up the stairs huh?” he says with a smile as he opens the door.

“Oh dear, you have no idea, how would I be able to live if only a second without your delightful compagny?”

They both laugh light-heartedly as Ryan steps inside the apartment, putting down his bags on the kitchen table to shrug off his jacket.

“You missed Aelyn by a matter of minutes, she left right before you called.”

“It is completely okay, we conversed last night over the phone, I will see her another time. I simply wanted to spend time with you.”

Brendon can't help but smile at these words, Ryan is the only one of Aelyn's friends whom he talks to outside of the parties they sometimes organize. Ryan is friendly and doesn't make things uncomfortable, even when you just met him, it's a quality Brendon rarely finds in people he usually meet.

Aelyn was right about him, he's fascinating in some way, perhaps it's his way of talking or simply his aura that have this power to enchant you, Brendon doesn't know yet.

A couple of days after they met, Ryan showed up at his door claiming he was at Aelyn's but she had planned to see Laurence later in the day so she politely kicked Ryan out and told him that it'd be nice of him to go see Brendon and befriend him.

They spent the day talking and laughing, sitting on Brendon's couch, drinking respectively green tea and beer. They lost track of time until Ryan started yawning and they noticed it was already almost midnight.

Since that day, they've been friends and hang out together whenever they find the time to.

Three packs of cookies and an improvised Tekken tournament later, they're both lying in the middle of Brendon's living room, legs resting on the couch, the coffee table having been moved away when Ryan threw a tantrum for losing yet another battle against Brendon.

“Next time we play, I will make sure you are not cheating and I will win.” Ryan says calmly, running his fingers in circle on the floor.

“You're such a sore loser.”

“Oh no, I am not. So, how does it feel to return to the fold?” light to serious in a matter of seconds, typical of Ryan.

“I don't really know how to feel about it yet, I mean, I've been here for what? Roughly a month now? And it's going better than I expected when I arrived, but I can't say things are great either. It doesn't feel much like home anymore."

“I think you need time to get your bearings, you lived a long time away from Vegas, I suppose it is completely different from how you have known it in the past.”

“Well, even before that, it didn't,” he pauses and sighs loudly, causing Ryan to turn his head in his direction, getting his complete attention, “ever since my parents- last time I felt at home here was so long ago that I can't remember when it was.”

“You need to create new memories in order to be able to feel at home again, the major reason why you do not feel the same way you used to back in time is certainly that you do not have happy souvenirs as much as you have bad ones. So, you just need to counterbalance and make the good memories heavier than the bad.”

“All the good memories in the world won't be able to overcome any of the crappy ones, trust me.”

“We will create so many great ones that you will forget all about the others, no matter how long it might take, it is not impossible. Quite a lot of things are impossible, such as flying and time traveling, but the creation of something new is never impossible.”

“You're good at cheering people up,” Brendon gives Ryan his softest smile, “I guess things always seem impossible until we do them right?”

Ryan nods slowly, nudging Brendon's foot with his, “with help it is simpler to achieve things than when you are all by yourself. You have friends and that is what friends are for, supporting one another when one of them is in need. I am here, and Aelyn is as well, she cares about you more than she would ever admit.”

“It's funny, knowing she used to plot my murder every second of the day.”

“It is a bit amusing indeed, it is hard to think she used to despise you, she looks at you as if you were a gemstone.”

“She changed, in the best way she could have, do you have something to do with that?”

“Absolutely not,” he laughs quietly, “I have always known her the way she is now; the sweetest human being.”

“She says the same thing about you.”

“Do you agree with her statement?” Ryan asks, taking Brendon aback.

“I do.” his answer make Ryan smile, wide and genuine, and Brendon internally pats himself on the back for that. Ryan smiles a lot, Brendon has come to know in the past few weeks, but he never smiles wide enough that you can see his teeth, he always smiles with restraint.

“I must admit you are quite sweet yourself.”

“ _Quite_ sweet?” he mocks shock, pressing a hand on his own chest.

“Fine, perhaps a little more than that.”

“ _A little more?_ ”

“A _lot_ more. Satisfied?”

“Very much so.” Brendon says with a smile, poking Ryan's arm playfully causing him to wince dramatically.

“Uhm,” Ryan clears his throat after a moment of comfortable silence, “there is a celebration coming up at my work place and I do not have any partner so I wondered if you would accept to go there with me.”

“I'd love to.” he feels like he's just been ask out for prom and it's absolutely ridiculous he thinks, but he feels lighter all of a sudden, and even if he knows it won't last more than a moment, he has every intention to cherish this feeling of well-being.

Ryan tentatively moves closer to Brendon, pressing their arms together. Brendon's skin feels warm through the thin layer of cotton that is Ryan's long sleeved shirt. Brendon leans his head against Ryan's, relaxing and appreciating the warmth against the right side of his body.

A couple of minutes later, Ryan turns his head towards Brendon and softly nuzzles his cheek, “Brendon?” he waits for him to hum before continuing, “may I have the right to give you a kiss?”

Brendon should have expected it, could have at least, but he didn't, too wrapped up in the serenity of this precise moment. He wants to, he wants to feel Ryan's lips on his, to wrap his arms around his thin waist and keep him close to him, even though he's known Ryan for a few weeks, no more. But a voice in his head throws a litany of curses and insults at him for thinking about kissing someone who's not Spencer and who will never be. He shouldn't want to kiss another man only a couple of months after his lover's death, he should not.

But he nods anyway, and when he feels Ryan's hand softly cupping his cheek he almost wants to push him away and tell him everything about Spencer, how he thought it was the love of his life and how one night they fought and that's why he's back in this goddamn city he absolutely hates, and that Spencer has been found dead in their once shared apartment a couple of nights after his departure.

But then, he feels Ryan lips press a soft cautious kiss on his lips and the rambling going on in his head dies down. The angle is awkward as Ryan's soft lips move against Brendon's, but none of them seem to care, Brendon wraps an arm around Ryan's waist and pull him on top of him as he deepens the kiss slowly, as if he was scared to push it too far.

Brendon's phone vibrates from where it has been left on the armrest of the couch earlier, they both try to ignore it, but the vibrating sound prevent them from being into it. Ryan rolls off of Brendon causing him to whine and pout at Ryan, who laughs quietly, now sitting with his back against the couch.

“Answer it, it might be important.”

Brendon sighs and picks up the phone, pressing it to his ear without even checking who's calling, he quickly recognizes Brochan's voice asking him for help at the café, and he knows, this is a day off but he can't reach Aelyn and if he wants to go home tonight he'll need another pair of hands.

“I'm sorry,” Brendon tells Ryan once he hung up, “my uncle needs some help with whatever at the café and Aelyn doesn't pick up her phone so I need to go there.”

“It is okay with me, do not worry, I will see you another time. Just remember to add my number in your phone this time.” they both laugh softly and get up from the floor.

 

***

 

The lights are off when Brendon arrives at the café, for a moment he wonders if Brochan is even here or if he already left and forgot to tell Brendon he didn't need him after all. But then he notices a thin ray of light coming from under the door leading to the back of the café.

Brochan is sitting at the small table in the employees room, the same one where he sat with him a month ago, talking about the job and whatever might have happened in the decade they spent far away from each other.

There are papers scattered all over the table, a giant mess on such a tiny surface.

“Ah, good, you're here, thanks to our Father, I don't know why Aelyn doesn't answer her phone, it could be an emergency but no, she only thinks about her own existence, it's always been that way, I can't really complain, now.” Brochan rambles as soon as he notices Brendon has entered the room.

“Don't be too hard on her, she'd be here in a second if there was an emergency, she's far from being a bad person.” it's not common for Brendon to defend his cousin and he's the first surprised he just did, but it needed to be done.

When Aelyn was a little girl, she was constantly seeking recognition from every single person she was surrounded by, more than once she went too far to achieve it but still, it doesn't seem to be enough for her father, he still has something bad to say about her.

Brendon always felt like Aelyn could get away with absolutely anything, her parents were worshipping her and blindingly believed her. Looking back now, things were certainly different than the way Brendon remembers them to be.

“Uhm, I have a dozen of boxes to unpack over there, it'd be nice if you could do it for me, I have all this paperwork to finish.”

Brendon sighs and get to work, opening the first box. When Brochan called, he thought it was something important, not just something that could have waited for the next day to be done. If he had known he'd still be lying on his living room floor with Ryan, and it'd be much more pleasing than being here.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this chapter was worth the wait. The next one will come faster since it's already ready (it sounds like an echo 'already ready', I like it). 
> 
> Don't hesitate to comment or ask me questions about the story, it warms my heart to see people get involved.
> 
> xx


	7. Chapter 7

Brendon is woken up by loud frantic knocks on the door of his apartment. He tries to ignore them and pull the blanket over his head, he worked until late last night, unpacking the boxes and setting their contents in cupboards, it took longer than expected. So right now, he'd rather get a few more hours of sleep than get up and answer the door.

Except that when the knocks on the door increase instead of ceasing he doesn't have any other choices than getting up and seeing what could be important enough to come and wake him up this early in the morning.

As soon as he opens the door, Aelyn bursts in, pushing him aside, she seems to be in a rush, something is off with her, she isn't as jovial as she usually is.

“How dare you?!” she half-screams at him, crossing her arms on her chest to hide the fact she's breathing rapidly, even though it just makes it even more obvious, “I should have known something was weird when you came back here, but no instead I just welcomed you back even though it was clear you didn't want to be with any of us. You fucking left one morning, with a note, a fucking note, nothing more. Dad gave you a job, a place to live, I introduced you to my friends, and you dare do this?! Who the fuck do you think you are?!”

Brendon takes a step back, waiting for Aelyn to be done ranting before speaking, “what are you talking about?”

“Oh please, stop acting innocent, I know what you did!”

“You're mad at me for kissing Ryan?” he asks getting more confused.

“You kissed Ryan? What the hell?!”

“You didn't know about it? Why are you mad at me then?”

“Wait,” she sighs loudly, attempting to calm down, “you truly don't know what I'm talking about?” Brendon shakes his head slowly making Aelyn's features soften, “can I trust you?” she asks quietly.

“Only if you want to, but what is going on?”

“If you lie to me, I swear I will cut you in tiny pieces the second you fall asleep, okay?” Brendon nods so she continues, “dad is in the hospital, he got attacked at the café yesterday night and called emergency, he's still conscious and told the police you're the one who attacked him. My dad is- he's far from being a good person in my opinion, but he wouldn't lie about that, especially not about his precious nephew.”

“Oh my- is he okay? What did the doctors say?” he asks in panic.

“He's doing fine just two broken ribs, broken nose and many bruises, but his life isn't in danger. Brendon, don't lie to me about that, if you did it, tell me. What happened last night?”

“Brochan called me because he needed help at the café and he couldn't reach you, so I went there and unpacked dozens of boxes for hours, then I came back home and directly went to bed. I didn't do it Aelyn, you've got to believe me.”

“He was doing fine when you left? You promise?”

“Yes, I remember, he was sitting at the table in the break room, he needed to finish his paperwork, he said he'd go back home after that.”

Aelyn sighs and sits on the floor, hugging her knees, “why would dad lie about that? It doesn't make sense.”

Curled up on her herself on the floor like that, she looks small and vulnerable and it makes Brendon's heart ache because he's never seen her like that. Years ago, he'd be buzzing with excitement at this sight, but in present day, he wishes he could take her pain away.

He sits on the floor next to her and pulls her against him, holding her tightly as she starts to cry, pressed against his chest.

“I promise you I don't have anything to do with that, and maybe Brochan doesn't lie, maybe I'm the last person he remembers seeing so he thinks I did it. We'll help the police and find out what happened.”

“If,” Aelyn hiccups, “I find out you lied to me, you better run away, it's something you know how to do, it shouldn't be a problem for you.”

“I'm not lying,” he pauses, taking a deep breath, “and I won't leave either.” Brendon feels like he needs to stress on that, the way Aelyn talks about his departure a decade ago makes him think she might hold a grudge on him for that. He never would have thought his departure affected her, in any way, he expected her to have thrown a party at the time, or something along those lines.

He tightens his grip on his cousin rocking her from side to side as he tries to remininsce the events of the previous night, trying to remember if he saw anyone suspicious in the streets as he left the café, but nothing comes to his mind.

All he remembers is Brochan trying to make conversation with him and ending up going on an homophobic rant for what felt like forever, making sure to mention how worried and disappointed him and Brendon's aunt were when Aelyn reported his sinful make out session with another boy. Brochan seemed to think it was a mistake and blamed it on Brendon's youth and how disturbing it had been for him to lose his parents at such a young age. Brendon ignored him, only humming once in a while.

He also remembers entering his apartment and going straight to bed, too exhausted to do anything else. But, between point A and point B, nothing, absolutely nothing. He knows he said goodbye to Brochan and walked back here, but he's unable to recall vivid memories of it.

He blames himself for having his head in the clouds, if he had payed more attention to his surroundings on his way home last night, he'd be able to help Brochan, and prove him that he has absolutely nothing to do with his assault.

Brendon feels his phone vibrating in his pocket, he pulls it out and recognizes the number, he really has to add in his phone. He glances at Aelyn who is fast asleep, pressed tightly against his chest, he places a soft kiss on the top of her head before answering his phone.

“I thought you would never pick up, I thought, _dude you still did not add my number in your phone I am going to kick your behind_.” a monotone voice says the second he put his phone to his ear.

“I added your number,” Brendon lies, speaking as quietly as he can, “I was just busy.”

“Oh, do I call at an inopportune time? I can call you back in a few hours if it suits you better.”

“No that's okay, it's just that Aelyn's sleeping next to me and I don't want to wake her up.”

“Is she okay?” Ryan asks worridely, “I tried to call her earlier and she did not respond, not even to my text messages, I assumed she might have been occupied with something important but I did not know what it could have been.”

“I don't know if she feels okay right now, but she'll be fine. Her father is in the hospital.” he says, “but he's fine!” he rushes out when he hears Ryan taking a sharp in take of breath.

“What happened to him?”

“He got attacked at the café last night.”

“But, were not you with him there?”

“That's where the problems begin, I was there, but I left before he got attacked, and now he claims I am the one who beat the shit out of him.”

“Wow.” is all Ryan has to say, for once he runs out of words and it makes Brendon uncomfortable in some way. If Ryan doesn't have anything to say, then the situation is really fucked up.

“I didn't do it though, I don't know how to do it but I will prove I have nothing to do with that.”

“Good luck, listen, I have to go, I need to go back to work if I do not want my boss on my back, I will call you back later. Tell Aelyn that I am here for her in this rough time, and give her the tightest hug possible for me.”

“Okay.”

Once he hangs up, Brendon can't help but feel like somehow Brochan's accusation bothers Ryan, maybe he even thinks Brendon did it. He doesn't have the right to blame him for that, they've known each other for a few weeks, whereas Ryan must have met Brochan a thousand times in the past. Of course, he'd rather believe someone he's known for years, but Brendon's innocent and Ryan will realize that, eventually.

 

***

 

It's not until 6:38PM that Aelyn wakes up, slowly, curled up on Brendon's couch while he's sitting on the edge, watching a cartoon with the tv on mute. She sits up and hugs her knees, her back resting against the armrest.

“We should go to the hospital.” she says calmly.

“You don't want to wait a little bit longer?” Brendon doesn't want to see Brochan for now, he's pretty sure his uncle could kill him, and he doesn't want to put up a fight either.

“Why?” she eyes Brendon suspiciously.

“Brochan won't want to see me, he's convinced I attacked him, it's too early for me to go talk to him and explain the situation.”

“You're right, but I want to sort this out now, because I'm not sure about who I should trust and I feel bad about it. I mean should I trust my dad who's anything but a dad to me most of the time, or the cousin I hated half of my life?” she hides her face in her hands, sighing audibly.

“You don't have to trust any of us if you don't want to, you can just wait and see.”

“I can't do that, either you did it or you did not, I can't stay on the line between those two possibilities, it's ridiculous.”

“We'll go see him, talk to him, talk to the police as well, and you'll find out the truth, until then, relax, support your father through this and try not to hate me.”

“I don't hate you,” she laughs quietly, “not anymore. And I want to support dad, be here for him, but it's hard. I mean, he yelled at me for not answering my phone, if I wouldn't be so self-absorbed I would have gone to the café instead of you, and none of this would have happened, that's the first thing he said when I entered his room.”

“He can be a dick to you but he loves you, I'm sure of it.”

“See,” she sits straighter still hugging her knees, “that's the problem, maybe he does love me, but it's like it's some kind of excuse to get away with being a shitty person. It's like 'I'm a dick, but I love you so it's fine', and let me tell you it's not.”

“I know that, but if you would talk to him about it maybe-”

“No,” she cuts him mid-sentence, “in my entire life, I've opened up maybe twice about something that mattered to me, but he doesn't care about my feelings, so no I won't open up to him, ever again.”

“You'd rather have him talk to you like that than opening up?”

“Yes, because if I open up, I'll say too much and it'll make things worse.”

“But it can get better, try to see it in a positive way.”

She gives him a defiant glare as she says “no.”

They stare at each other in silence, immobile for a moment, until Brendon looks away and Aelyn lightens the mood with loud laughter.

“I win!!” she squeals.

Brendon wants to point out that he wasn't even aware they were playing but his cousin seems in a better mood than a few minutes prior and he doesn't want to take that away from her, so instead he just nods with a playful smile.

“So, you kissed Ryan huh?”

“Uhm,” he's all for changing the topic of discussion but he'd rather talk about something else, “technically, he's the one who kissed me.”

“Well, I didn't see it coming. Told you he had an hypnotizing vibe, you've been drawn to him just like about anybody who's ever met this guy.”

“He's special, and I don't even know what makes him special, it's a weird feeling.”

“You're far from being the first in that case don't worry, and you don't necessarily have to know what's special about him, the important thing is that he is special.”

“No, that's the problem, he shouldn't be special, Spencer was special, and I can't help but feel like I've betrayed him by kissing Ryan.”

“Bren,” she sighs, “it's been a while now, it's normal that you start exploring romance again, and it's normal that you feel bad about it.”

“It's been barely more than a month, it's not that much, I've always hated how some people got married again so soon after their lovers died and used the excuse of 'they'd want me to be happy' to justify doing that. But I'm just like them now.”

“You're not married yet, and it was just a kiss, you have time to let your relationship evolve, okay? But you should talk to Ryan about Spencer, he'll understand.”

“Sure, next time I see him I'll say 'oh by the way my ex-boyfriend got killed a month ago', that's a great idea.”

“That's not what I suggested okay? I'm just trying to help, I know him almost more than I know myself, so trust me when I tell you he will understand, he won't judge you.”

“There's no way you can know that for sure.”

“Listen,” she takes a hold of Brendon's hands, “I've done some things in the past, crappy things, and he never judged me, never, so I know he won't judge you for wanting to start a new chapter in your life.”

“He called while you were still sleeping, I told him about Brochan and he got weird, he got cold, so I don't think he's willing to not judge me as much as he is with you.”

“I'm sure there's an explanation for that.”

“If you say so.”

“I left my phone in my apartment, he probably tried to call me since last night, did you tell him I was here?” she asks, eyebrows furrowed.

“Yes I told him, and he told me to give you the tightest hug possible until he can do it himself,” Aelyn smiles at that and looks at Brendon expectantly, “what?” she holds out her arms in front of her like a little girl would when her father comes back home from work.

Brendon smiles brightly and pulls Aelyn against him, holding her as tightly as he can, content but nonetheless still anxious about seeing Brochan any time soon. He'll deal with things once they come though, for now he just wants to relax.

 


	8. Chapter 8

The first thing Brendon notices as he enters the hospital, shortly followed by his cousin, is the coolness of the air, and the distinct smell of hospitals.

For the most part of his life, he's always thought it was a result of the chemicals doctors were using, but once, at a family gathering in the family's cabin, one of his uncles told him it was the smell of death.

He still doesn't know if it is the truth or if his uncle just tried to scare him, still, every time he enters an hospital he remembers and he can feel a weight on his heart, as if someone was squeezing him to death. Add to this the reason why he is here today and he's certain he could die from it; all this stress and fear.

In the elevator, Brendon is on the verge of fainting, drops of sweat rolling down on each side of his face, he's thankful he's alone in there with Aelyn, he wouldn't stand anyone's judmental look right now. Not that he stands them in normal times though.

“Bren?” Aelyn asks hesitantly as they both step out of the elevator, automatically getting Brendon's attention, “thank you, for coming with me, I know you're freaking out right now at least half as much as I do so, thanks.”

“Why are you freaking out? You've already had to face his grumpiness, the worst is behind you now,” he doesn't want to mention that he didn't have any other choice than to be here right now anyway.

“Wait until he sees who I brought with me this time, I don't know who he's going to yell at more to be honest, even mom didn't calm him down last time, she didn't even tried.”

“You're not alone this time, it'll go smoother,” he's surprised Mary didn't try to defend her daughter, she used to do it all the time when Brendon lived with them, but, Brochan didn't talk to her that way either at the time. Things seem to have changed a lot since Brendon's departure, and not in a positive way at all.

They both hold their breaths as they enter Brochan's room, surprisingly Mary isn't sitting by her husband's side, nobody's in the room except for them and Brochan. The room is brightly lit, the light of the sun reflecting against the immaculate white of the walls.

The second Brochan turns his head to see the new arrivals, he sits up straight sending a death glare at his nephew who's standing next to the door, petrified.

Half of Brochan's face is still swollen, a light shade of purple dusting his cheekbone and the corner of his lower lip that's been busted open. The other half of his face is normal except for a few bruises, he looks half human half demonic.

“What is that ungrateful fucking bastard doing here?! How dare you come here after what you've done you little shit huh?! And you!” he points at Aelyn angrily, “why did you even bother coming here, bringing this fucker with you!” his yellings are so loud Brendon is certain he can feel the floor buzzing under his feet.

“Dad,” Aelyn swallows audibly, tears threatening to spill from her eyes, “is there a possibility that your mem-ories are blurry a-and th-that Brendon didn't attack you?”

“What?! Are you seriously doubting me right now?! You'd rather believe this man than believe your own father?! I guess useless jokes of human being get along huh?!”

“Hey! Stop talking to her like that, ta-”

“Don't you dare open your mouth!”

Brendon's about to retort when a couple of nurses enter the room, alerted by all the yellings, “what's going on in here?” the older one asks, looking back and forth between the three of them.

“Throw these trash out of my room, it's not a garbage dump here!”

“Sir, miss, I'm going to have to ask you to leave the room now.” the other nurse tells them, one hand on each of their backs, pushing them towards the door, making sure to close it behind them while her colleague takes care of Brochan.

Without a word to Brendon, Aelyn burst open the door of the stairs and runs out of the hospital as fast as her legs will let her. Brendon takes his time instead, using the elevator about half a dozen of people with giant bouquets of flowers for their loved ones just left empty.

Once he reaches the information desk Aelyn's nowhere to be found, despite searching everywhere he doesn't find her, earning a few questioning glances from people sitting in the starbucks area.

He finally finds her, after searching her on the front of the hospital, even behind plants, sitting on the roof of his car, hugging her knees tightly against her chest. When he reaches his car, she doesn't move, doesn't even blink, he hops on the car rather ungracefully and sits beside her, waiting, for what? He doesn't know, but still, he's waiting, by her side.

Brochan has been hard on her, maybe it wasn't the best thing to do to bring the man Brochan's convinced to have been attacked by, but it didn't deserve such a reaction. Maybe they should have waited a few more days before visiting Brochan, it would have left him time to calm down.

He wants to say something, anything to stop her from crying like she does right now, sniffing discreetly even though it sounds deafening in the silent parking lot. He truly does want to say something, but he doesn't know what to say, so he keeps his mouth shut to avoid worsening the situation.

An ambulance's siren resonates in the open air, startling both of them, a group of nurses run out of the hospital to take over the care of the new patient. A stretcher is rushed out of the ambulance and inside the hospital, the siren stops, the doors are being closed and the silence settles back after this moment of rush.

After a few more minutes spent sitting on the roof of the car in silence, Aelyn jumps off of the car, soon followed by a Brendon caught on the hop. They both climb inside the car, none of them speaking, as if they were both mute or mimes.

Brendon gets out of the parking lot, a red coupé honking impatiently from behind him apparently unsatisfied about the time he takes to get out of there. He rolls his eyes and speeds up until the sound of the horn dies down in the distance.

“Is there somewhere you want to go?” Brendon asks hesitantly after he realizes Aelyn's clearly not going to be the one speaking first.

“Just drive, and never stop.” she mumbles against the arm she's resting on.

“How about we go eat frozen yoghurt instead? Driving to nowhere is not a good idea.”

“Didn't stop yourself from doing it in the past, why wouldn't I have the right to do it too? Because my decisions are always stupid? I can't make a choice by myself without it being irresponsible?”

“Woah,” he pulls the car on the side of the road before turning to face Aelyn who's now sitting straight on the passenger seat, glaring at him. “It's true, I did it, twice even, so trust me when I tell you it's not a good idea.”

“I'll find a car and do it myself then, I don't need you to watch my back, I never did and I certainly don't need it now.”

“Do you listen to yourself or do you only hear white noise? You don't even have your driver's licence, you'd probably drive straight into a tree halfway wherever you're going.”

“Who cares anyway?” she turns her back to Brendon, now facing the car's window, “I'm a joke of a human being, remember?”

“You're not,” she seems to believe anything Brochan might tell her, even the most absurd lies, every time he's mean to her his words are engraved inside her head, Brendon's sure she remembers any nasty comment her father might have told her in the past few years. “Ryan would care, your friends would care, your boyfriend would care, Riley would certainly care too, your mom, me.” he lists waiting for her to turn back to him.

“Mom doesn't care enough to defend me, so you can cross her out of your little list.”

“Bunny,” Brendon sighs loudly, Aelyn turns around at the speed of light staring at her cousin with wide eyes, still teary from the time she spent crying since they left the hospital.

“You have no idea how long it's been since someone has called me that.”

“If you want to drive away, we will, but we have to plan something first okay? And maybe bring a couple of friends with us.” he takes a hold of her hand and she nods, sniffing loudly and ungracefully.

A second later she's back to the Aelyn Brendon's known since he arrived in Vegas, a big smile on her face, radiating positivity and energy. He still doesn't know how she managed to go from being a broken vulnerable crying mess to the happy over-energetic girl she is at this very moment. She must have a magic switch to go from one to the other with such easiness.

 

***

 

“I know where we should go,” Aelyn breaks the silence with a quiet tone. Her and Brendon had driven back to their building after their little stop on the side of the road. Aelyn proposed to make dinner for both of them as a way of thanking Brendon for supporting her, but also because she's starting to wonder if Brendon ever eat something that is not a takeout. “We should go to the family's cabin near Lake Tahoe, we'd be good there, it's kind of abandonned now, mom and her siblings are fighting over whether they should sell it or not.”

“Last time I went there was forever ago, it feels weird thinking about how much time has passed since then.”

“Back in the day I was still a child, and look at me now, I'm a grown up.” she mixes cooked macaroni, tuna, cheddar and a liquid he can't quite recognize inside a large bowl.

“Well, usually that's what happens when time passes; we grow up.” he smiles widely when Aelyn reacts to that with a soft playful punch on his arm.

“I know dingus, it just feels,” she pauses, staring into the bowl as if the macaroni's would rearrange themselves to spell the word she's looking for, “alarming to see how fast things change despite time feeling frustratingly slow.”

“I get what you feel, time never goes fast enough but at the same time you wake up one day and realize a large amount of it passed by at the speed of light,” he rests his chin on his hands, looking at Aelyn putting the bowl into the microwave.

“I wish I were a dog, they have no idea what time is at all, they eat, love, get cuddled and that's it, no anxiety about what might happen the next day or how much time they have left. It's a typical human thing.”

“What breed would you be?” he asks curiously.

“A coton de tulear for sure, we have the same personality. You?”

“I don't know anything about dog's personalities but I'd go with an american foxhound because I met one who was weird once.”

The microwaves bips and Aelyn starts serving the food in two plates, “it represents us quite well I must say, the weirdo and the oversensitive.”

“You're sensitive but not overly so, you're human.”

“You have no idea how sensitive I can be, I must have the world record of the person who's spent the most time crying. I guess I need to just accept it, but it's new to me, I mean, I've always been sensitive but not that much. My therapist told me that it seemed to have all started when,” she pauses and take a bite of her meal, “what are you going to do with dad's accusation?”

“I have to prove my innocence, I didn't do it, and there's no valid reason for Brochan to accuse me, he's been nice to me since I came back and I doubt he'd want to put this on me without truly thinking I did it. I feel like it's all a bad dream and I'm going to wake up in cold sweat in my bed back in Phoenix with Spencer fast asleep beside me.”

“Usually in bad dreams there aren't any good parts, so you're not going to wake up, but if you're innocent, we can find proofs, truth always comes out.”

Brendon huffs, “as if there were good parts about all this shit I'm in right now.”

“Yeah,” Aelyn sighs and remains silent while she pushes her food, around in her plate, with her fork. Brendon stares at her intently for a moment, waiting for her to keep talking or at least look up at him, but she doesn't, seemingly transfixed by her food.

“Is there a security cam at the café?” no answer from Aelyn who resumed eating in silence, “it could help prove I didn't do it if we can see another person entering the café after me on tape.”

“There's one, but it doesn't record the back of the café for obvious reasons, you can still talk about it with the police though, they'll check it out.” she finally breaks the heavy silence, however she keeps staring at her plate, now empty.

“We can check it out ourselves and then show it to the police,” he suggests earning a shrug from his cousin. “Look, I was talking about what happened with Spencer and coming back here and all this drama with Brochan, of course our friendship isn't a bad thing, it's the only good thing I have right now.”

She looks up almost instantly a soft smile forming on her lips, she stands up and rounds the table to sit on Brendon's lap, snuggling tightly against him, her arms wrapped around his waist. “What about Ryan huh?” she laughs softly.

“Shit!”

“What?” she lifts her head to look at Brendon, one of her perfectly plucked eyebrows raised.

“I have this date with him tomorrow night and I totally forgot, I have absolutely nothing to wear, well it's not really a date, it's a celebration at his work place but he invited me there so it is sort of a date right? And I can't go there with ripped jeans and one of the two plain t-shirts I own.” the more he speaks the faster he goes, to the point he's breathless by the time he's done.

“I thought something bad happened you scared me you idiot. Don't worry, I went to one with him a couple of years ago and it's not as fancy as you'd expect from such a popular publishing compagny. I had smurf blue hair at the time and they didn't mind at all. But it's a good occasion for me to force you to go shopping with me to buy a great outfit, for your date-not-a-date.”

“Smurf blue hair?”

“Yes, my parents weren't happy, but I wanted to try something crazy.” she shrugs, smiling brightly.

“It's your hair, you do whatever you want with it” he pauses then asks, “when did you meet Ryan by the way?”

“Two years or so after you left, he was in a rock band at the time and they got hired to play at my prom, I spent the night sitting on a bench next to the stage, listening to them play. Ryan noticed me and came to talk to me at the end of the night, he even offered to drive me back home which I accepted. We talked on the way back home, and we ended up dancing together on the sidewalk in front of my house because I had told him that I went to prom by myself and he wanted me to dance at least once. He sang in my ear and we slow danced.” she smiles fondly at the memory. “Now you understand why I fell for him at the time.”

“It was sweet of him to do that. You went to prom by yourself?”

“Technically no, I went there with a really nice girl, turned out she invited me because she didn't want to go by herself and surprise! Her boyfriend from another school was there, so I spent the night by myself.”

“Ouch,” he winces and Aelyn shrugs, “if it makes you feel better, I didn't even go to my prom, I wanted to go there with Suzy Lorkosky, I had been swoon over her for years, but she refused and went there with the one guy I hated at the time. I thought it was my chance to find the courage to go ask her out, but the only thing I got from it was a heartbreak. At least I tried, and you got to meet your best friend.”

“If you look at it that way it is more positive than I first thought. I remember Suzy, I teased you about her all the time, she's married now, to none other than Daniel Khols, but I'm pretty sure they got married just so they could fuck and now they're stuck together because divorce is a sin. They seem deeply in love and genuinely happy at church though but it's easy to put masks on in public.”

“I think everybody does that, put on a mask to trick people into thinking you're genuinely happy and content with your existence, nobody wants others to see their weakness.”

She nods and rests her head back on Brendon's shoulder, tightening her grip on his waist, “we let a few carefully selected people see this side of us, and when we don't have anybody to show it to, then starts the long drift into madness.”

Brendon nods slowly before leaning his head on Aelyn's, running his fingers through her hair in soft movements. He couldn't agree more with what his cousin just said, after his parents' death he's been left by himself with the pain and anger he was feeling at the time. His friends didn't dare talk about it and Aelyn's parents thought it'd be better for him if they didn't broach the subject, that way it'd have been easier for him to get over it. Obviously, Aelyn wasn't of any help, too busy whinning about whatever minor thing happened to her at school or with one of her annoying friends.

Soon enough, Brendon felt himself decay, he had tried to ignore his feelings, tried to forget about the entire situation, it had seemed like the right thing to do, since it was what everyone had done. Except it wasn't a good idea, at all. He stopped going out with his friends, stopped drawing, stopped doing every single thing he had loved to do in the past. Of course, his friends didn't like his new attitude and ended up cutting him out of their group of friends.

When he graduated, his uncle and his aunt weren't present at the ceremony, they were on a trip with a few other couples from church. It had been the straw that broke the camel's back, he drove back home afterwards, packed the little belongings he had and hit the road, never looking back, stopping only when he ran out of gas in Phoenix.

Now that he reminisces it, it was not the best idea he's ever had, it was compulsive and driven by emotions rather than by reason. But there was nothing left for him in Las Vegas anyway, he was known as the boy whose parents got killed, people expected him to be a good church boy and he had no friends anymore. He needed a brand new start, he needed the opportunity to be anything he wanted, nobody knew him and he didn't know anybody. And that, is what he will never regret from driving away from here.

He's back in this hell hole and troubles started the second he stopped his car, he found out about Spencer's tragic death, and Brochan claims he attacked him at the café the other night, even though it isn't true. Out of all places, he could have stopped anywhere but it had to be here, back to square one, the only place on earth that he happens to hate.

“About the security cam,” Brendon is startled by Aelyn's voice, tearing him out of his thoughts, “we can go check it out if you want, but it'll wait until after our shopping hours tomorrow.”

“Hours?”

“Unless we find the perfect outfit in less time than that, it usually takes me an hour to find an outfit for a date, but that's because I always wear dresses so the time of reflection is shortened. I already know what I want you to wear but you have to feel good wearing it so I'm pretty sure it'll last more than an hour.” she counts excitedly, tracing small circles on Brendon's chest.

“I'm not too hard to please, just no blue and yellow together, I've had enough of this color combination with the school's uniform.”

“Who would even wear blue with yellow? It looks hideous, and I'm all for black white and grey with a touch of color, it's the most perfect match.”

Brendon smiles fondly, taking a deep breath, “coming from the girl who wears the most vibrant colors I've ever seen anyone wear.”

“It's different when you wear dresses, and when it's not a date, I won't make you wear a white and yellow polka dot dress, unless you want to.”

“I'd sure make an impression going there in a dress, especially a yellow one.”

“You definitely would,” they both laugh light-heartedly, still pressed against one another, “Ryan would like it but he'd act pissed just because he wants his boss to like him.”

“Who doesn't want their boss to like them anyway?” he purposedly avoid talking about the part where she said Ryan would like it, a bit uncomfortable at the thought even though not repulsed.

“Nobody. But it's borderline obsessive in Ryan's case, the only reason he cut his hair short is because his boss pointed out his long hair negatively, once. He stopped trying to get published because he got told by his boss that he wasn't made for it. It's unhealthy, he struggled to get this job so I understand he doesn't want to get fired but it's getting ridiculous.” she sighs and pause for a moment, “he's one of the best writer I've ever had the chance to read, he could get published.”

“He believes in his boss' judgement, granted, he's a bit extreme about it, but he believes what you have to tell him too, you two are too close for him not to. Just talk to him about it.”

“I told him a countless amount of time how talented he is, and what's so special about his writing but he's convinced I tell him that because I know he loves to write and I love him so I don't want to hurt him. He's stubborn. But I tell you this now, he'll be a bestseller author by the time he's thirty.”

“He'll believe you eventually, you just have to keep on supporting him until it happens.”

“You're probably right, it's just frustrating to see someone with so much talent waste it because of one negative opinion, there'll always be someone who doesn't appreciate your work, but you can't let them dictate what you do and what you don't. Nobody's opinion is important enough to make you quit what fuels your soul.”

Brendon feels his shirt getting wet where Aelyn's head is resting against his chest, “it's not only about Ryan isn't it?” he whispers, pressing a soft kiss on the top of her head.

“I quit writing once, and after a few weeks it felt like my soul was eating me from the inside, I was a walking corpse in decomposition, I just don't want him to feel that way, he deserves so much more than that. That's all.”

He wants to say something to make her stop worry about it, but he doesn't know what to say, he never know how to find the words that will make someone feel better. People like Ryan or even Aelyn always seem to have the right thing to say when you're feeling down, Brendon, never had this ability, and everytime someone is in need of positivity he is reminded how much he sucks at it.

He must have inherited that trait from his father, the man never knew what was the right thing to say when Brendon was crying, he just told him he wasn't a frail little girl and moved on. His mother on the other hand gave him the most beautiful speeches when he was sad, so beautiful he sometimes wondered if they weren't written somewhere, ready to be used by her at the opportune time.

His mom would know what to do with Brochan, she'd know what to say to Aelyn, if only she was still here, she's always been a better person than anyone, selfless and caring. Right now, he wishes she'd be here, by his side, hugging him in that way only her ever did, she'd kiss his forehead and tell him that everything will be alright, that dark clouds stay for a while but always let the sun chase them away in the end. And he'd believe her, just like he did when he was a little boy, and he'd feel safe.

But she's not here anymore, he has to find the answers by himself, like the adult he is. However, sometimes even adults needs a warm and loving hug from their mothers.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, you are encouraged to comment and/or leave kudos, asks questions about the story and the characters.
> 
> Also I'm looking for a new beta, so feel free to volunteer, all I ask is that you are really good in english! In the meantime I'll be my own beta.


	9. Chapter 9

“I'm not sure about those pants, they're slightly,” Brendon pauses, looking at himself under every angle in the large mirror standing in front of him, “they're too tight for my liking, I'm not even sure I could sit without ripping them.”

Half an hour ago, they arrived in a local thrift store remoted from the city, just a couple of miles away from where they both grew up. Aelyn has been quick to find a couple of pieces of clothing Brendon could try on, in hope he'd be satisfied with one of her choices. Three outfits later and he's not enthusiastic about any of them yet.

“I thought you'd like them since you're always wearing tight pants.” Aelyn shrugs stuffing gummy bears in her mouth.

“Tight yes, but I could rip those off just by contracting the muscles of my lower body, a size bigger and they'd be perfect though, I love the cut.”

“Thrift shopping problems. We'll find something similar but larger if you'd like.”

“Yes please.”

Aelyn eats a few more gummy bears before standing up and wandering into the store to find a pair of pants Brendon might like, most of them are either too large or too small and it's an issue she's used to face by now, after all the years she spent buying her clothes in here.

Halfway through her search for black pants, she gets lost in the middle of the racks, looking through dresses, skirts, blouses, anything but what she's supposed to look for.

When she comes back to the fitting rooms, Brendon's sitting there with the too-tight pants pushed down to his knees, he shakes his head seeing all the clothes Aelyn is holding that are certainly not for him unless she thought he was serious about wearing a dress. She hangs her finds in a fitting room and brandishes a couple of pair of pants and a printed shirt, with a proud smile on her face.

“Are you stuck in those pants?” she asks teasingly as she hangs the clothes in Brendon's fitting room.

“Nope, I just needed to push them down to sit without ripping them off, and paying for pants I would never wear is completely out of the question.”

“Okay, now try these on, I'm going to try a few dresses.”

“I thought we were here for me.” he mumbles getting up and stepping deeper into the fitting room, walking like a pingouin with the pants squeezing his knees together. Aelyn rolls her eyes and close the curtain behind her.

A dozen of minutes later, Brendon gets out fully dressed, while Aelyn is sitting in her fitting room, dresses on her lap, apparently waiting for him. Once she notices him she stands up instantly dropping the dresses she was holding to give Brendon a closer inspection. She looks at him from head to toe a few times, her face unreadable, which, if he's being honest, freaks Brendon out. She turns around him and look at him one more moment before a large grin forms on her face.

“You look absolutely gorgeous, I'm blown away, tell me you love this outfit or I'll kill you with my bare hands.” she enthuses, her hands paused mid-air between them as if she wanted to touch him but didn't dare to.

“I love it,” he blushes, smiling shyly.

“Perfect!”

“Did you find anything for you?” he asks, happy to push the subject off of him.

“Yes, two cheap dresses, the others are pretty too but I can't pay for them,” she shrugs, _how did she try on all these dresses in so little time?_ Brendon thinks, confused, he didn't take that long to get inside these pants did he?

After they gather their belongings, they wander inside the store, looking at clothes, not looking for anything in particular, eating gummy bears. Aelyn seems to give her complete attention to every single piece of clothing on the racks, as if each was special, and Brendon stares at her doing it, her fascination fascinating him.

She stops in front of a rack full of coats and jackets, touching the sleeves with her fingertips, so softly, almost a caress. She pulls out a black trench coat to inspect it further, checking the inside with one hand.

“We can play a game, well sort of, I play it in my head when I come here, all you have to do is take a piece of clothing and imagine what its previous owner was like.”

“It sounds nice,” he never even thought about doing something like that, it might explain the attention Aelyn seems to give to the clothes.

“This trench has a name written inside, Danny, I think he's a sweet, well-mannered man, who lives in a cosy apartment that he keeps clean and in order, except for his bedroom because it's the only place where he can be as messy as he wants to be. He smells like rain and hot chocolate made with whole milk. He's probably in his mid-thirties by now, but was around my age when he was wearing this coat. And obviously, he's stylish.”

Brendon smiles listening to her talking with passion, sometimes this enthusiasm almost child-like leaves her and Brendon hates when it happens, he'd want her to be like that under any circumstances. Aelyn runs her fingers on the name tag inside, sighing fondly as if she was remembering an old lover, then puts it back on the rack, turning to Brendon, looking at him expectantly. She takes a handful of gummy bears not looking away from her cousin.

“My turn I guess,” she nods with a smile, chewing slowly, “let me see,” they walk a bit further into the store, Brendon takes a denim blue vest that looks worn out, “well, it's obviously old, maybe from the eighties or nineties, it belonged to a tall man who likes to dress up even under normal circumstances. He must be have been a middle-aged man, with a wife, children and a saint bernard, living in the suburbs of a big city but not Las Vegas more like Denver or something.”

“How many children?”

“Three, twin girls and an elder boy.”

“You've got a great imagination, you just don't focus on details, but that's the way my brain works, so obviously it's different from a person to another.”

“I've never played that game before so that's certainly why.”

They walk around the store for a moment, Aelyn still inspecting the clothes with precision, until a peter pan collar plaid dress catches her eye, her whole face lights up when her eyes land on it. She holds it out to Brendon with a bright smile on her face, he looks at it closely, his lips forming a fond smile, this is the exact same dress the main character in Aelyn's favorite childhood cartoon was wearing.

It was on every morning before school started, she watched it religiously and couldn't stand to miss a single episode. One time, her parents had to stop by the grocery store before dropping her at school, so it meant she'd have to miss that morning's episode, she threw a tantrum, crying and yelling. She ended up not talking to her parents for an entire week, and at the next family gathering, Brendon had a good time making fun of her for being this upset over a minor thing like that.

“All I wanted was to be like her when I grow up, turned out I didn't go on an adventure with my best friend in a fantasy land with talking animals and wise old men.” she laughs softly putting the dress on the rack after seeing the size is way too small for her.

“But you are independent and you're not scared to address certain topics, so in a way you grew up to be similar to that little girl.”

“And you're not the wild boar anymore,” Brendon raises his eyebrows, containing his laughter, “yes I identified you to the wild boar that kept chasing her and who kept making everything in his power to make her fail whatever journey she was on that episode.”

“I hated you,” he wraps an arm around Aelyn's shoulders, “but I wasn't like the wild boar, I wasn't that cruel.”

“It felt like that to me, but it doesn't anymore so I think it's all that matters.”

 

***

 

It's the twilight when Brendon arrives at the publishing house's building, Ryan had texted him earlier in the afternoon to give him the time he needed to be here. He's been ready for an hour already when he received the text, Aelyn patiently waited with him until it was time for him to leave if he didn't want to be late.

He must admit, Aelyn's choice was perfectly on point, the last time he looked this good was too long ago for him to remember, or he remembers but doesn't really want to, either way, he feels invigorated.

He waits for half an hour on the sidewalk before he starts wondering if he read the time right, if he didn't come here too soon, or too late for that matter. But he's pretty sure Ryan would have called him if he was late, so this possibility can be forgotten. Maybe he got the address wrong, he's not at the 1082 but somewhere else, he checks the building and see that, in fact, he is at the 1082. What if the party got cancelled out of the blue and Ryan forgot to tell him?

Before he starts going insane going through all the scenarios possible, a car parks right next to him, a handsome man gets out of it, dressed in suit pants, a short sleeved shirt and a bow-tie. Despite feeling confident about his look when he left his appartment earlier, he finds himself doubting his and Aelyn's choice about his outfit, he looks... off.

When the man steps closer to him he realizes it's Ryan, looking classy and absolutely gorgeous, great, his date looks way better than he does, not that it hasn't always been the case, but this time he looks like he's not going to the same place as Ryan and they must look ridiculous standing next to each other right now, staring at one another, dimly lit by a street lamp.

There'll be other people in there, tons of other people, and if they all look at least half as good as Ryan does, Brendon is so screwed right now. They'll look at him weirdly and tease Ryan about it for the rest of his life, what if he even get fired because of him? He'd never be able to forgive himself for doing such a thing. And what if- his thoughts are interrupted by noise coming from near him, Ryan's voice.

“Sorry? I- uhm I was lost in my thoughts.”

“That is what I noticed, I asked you if you were ready to enter the building and go to the celebration. I am sorry if you did not want to come, you should not feel obliged to come, you know.”

“What? No! I want to go with you, I'm just getting nervous, because I dressed up but still you're a thousand times more handsome than I am and I'm pretty sure everyone at the celebration will look effortlessly beautiful. Plus I'm a guy, they probably expect you to go with a girl, I don't want to cause you trouble in your work, I know you value your job in there and I don't want to interfere with your success as a publisher.” he finally stops talking, staring at a button on Ryan's shirt, slowly calming down.

“Do not freak out please, I would not have asked you to come with me if I did not want you to, or if it was a problem for me to show up with a man at this celebration. I am not going to lose my job because of anything you might do tonight, it will be fine. You look handsome yourself, even more than that, I just do not have the right word right now, but you are. You will be the prettiest in the room, trust me.” Ryan talks in the softest tone Brendon has ever heard him use, and he has a natural softness in his way of talking.

“I'm sorry I didn't mean to freak out like that, it's just that, I don't want to embarrass you, and I haven't done that in a long time, so I'm not used to it anymore.”

“You will not embarrass me, I do a pretty good job by myself when it comes to embarrassment. I do not mean to pressure you into anything, if you do not want to go, it is okay.”

Brendon sighs, closing his eyes for a second, licking his lips, “I want to, I just need a moment to calm down, reassure myself and it'll be good.”

Ryan steps closer to him and wraps his arms loosely around Brendon's shoulders, rubbing circles on the nape of his neck with his fingertips. Brendon rests his forehead against Ryan's collarbone, breathing heavily for a couple of minutes. They stay still for a moment, none of them know how long they stood there together, however long it took for Brendon's breathing to go back to normal.

After an exchange of glances they finally enter the building and get directly inside the elevator. The lobby is nothing too fancy, plain white walls, a large door presumably leading to stairs and an elevator. The building isn't only property of the publishing house Ryan works for, there are many others offices in there, which certainly explain the simplicity of the lobby. The compagnies would rather invest into decorating their floor rather than the common part, there would be too much compromises for them.

Once they reach the house's floor, the elevator's doors reveal an immaculate office, with a dozen of cubicles spaced enough for the workers to have their own privacy even though they're all sharing the same office, except for the boss who obviously has his own office, and a room made for meetings with authors, printers or simply between colleagues.

They walk further into the office, Ryan's hand carefully placed between Brendon's shoulder blades, to reassure him that everything will be just fine and that he shouldn't overthink it nor be nervous. Quickly, a middle-aged man with salt and pepper hair approaches them, dressed in one of the fancy suits you can find in the stores without price tags. Judged by Ryan's sharp intake of breath it must the holy man he wants to impress desperately, his boss.

The man holds a hand out towards Brendon, his face completely emotionless, “it's a pleasure to meet you sir, you must be Brendon, I'm Richard Costen, the proud owner of this publishing house.”

Brendon shakes the man's hand firmly, or at least he thought he did, all the while holding his breath in, too scared to speak in case his voice wavers awkwardly. He attempts to smile at Richard, and he's quick to feel Ryan's hand starting to rub circles on his back again. Richard smiles, or at least it kind of looks like it might be a smile, and leaves to greet the new arrivals; a couple, a woman dressed in a silver mermaid dress, and a man, in a suit, both seeming to come straight out of a fashion show.

“Are you okay? The worst is behind you, you already introduced yourself to Richard, do not let yourself be impressed by the expensive suits, they are gentlemen, they are nice.”

“I'm from a modest family, I studied in a modest school, I've never got to spend time with rich people, and to be honest they freak me out a little bit, everything looks polished.” near the elevator's doors Richard is greeting another couple who has just arrived.

“It is appearances, things are always different than what they seem, it is also the case with rich people. The only difference between these people and us is the content of our bank account and their feeling of superiority. They are like wolves in some way, if you are not one of them, they do not dare to approach you, but once they see you mean no harm, they accept you as one of them.”

“And at any moment they can change their minds and eat you.”

A quiet laugh escapes Ryan's lips, “it is true in some way, but I would rather not think about it.”

The evening passes by agonizingly slow for Brendon, he stands there besides Ryan, a flute of champagne in hand, while snob couples make the conversation, mostly to Ryan. He doesn't feel any more at ease than he did when he first arrived, the faces he's seeing are, however, growing familiar.

One of Ryan's colleagues' wife doesn't even dare to glance his way while her husband is talking with Ryan, Brendon doesn't know why she is as distant as she is, but he didn't expect things to be any different so he just goes with it and stands there, smiling politely.

After almost two hours standing there like a trophy wife, Brendon is already ready to go back home and just go to bed. But Ryan doesn't seem to feel the same way, talking enthusiastically with everyone even though he just saw them earlier during their working hours. This situation reminds Brendon of his parents' funeral when his aunt talked to everyone completely uncaring about how Brendon might have felt. He doesn't blame Ryan though, unlike he did with his aunt back in the day.

Brendon takes advantage of Ryan being in an interesting conversation with yet another couple, to sneak out and pick up a few canapés from the buffet. He eats a few, attempting to look distinguished and not like a little boy who can't control himself in front of a table covered in food of all sorts.

He didn't want tonight to be a date, but he didn't expect it to be this formal nor to be anything but a real date, really, it is a paradoxal train of thoughts, but somehow it makes sense inside his head. Aelyn came here with Ryan once, and judging by what she told him about it, it went just fine, she didn't feel the way Brendon does right now, or she did but doesn't talk about it, either way, Brendon feels sick and would do anything to leave right now.

He's ten seconds away from a breakdown when he feels a soft pressure on his lower back, he almost drops his flute of champagne in surprise, but he's relieved not to have freaked out and squealed or something equally embarrassing.

“Are you feeling okay? You left rather abruptly” there's genuine concern in the tone of his voice, which makes Brendon feel both, better and worse.

“I don't feel at ease, but that's okay, I'll just stay here for a moment if you don't mind.”

“Would you like to go back to your place, or mine, and order pizzas? It would be more comfortable for you and we would be able to converse more.”

“I know tonight is important for you, I don't want to ruin that.”

“We have stayed for more than two hours, it is enough for me, I would not propose this to you if I would not want to do it” he smiles softly, trying to be reassuring but instead it looks more like he's scared Brendon might throw a tantrum and leave, making a scene.

“I'd love to, plus I haven't seen your place yet.”

 

***

 

“I swear to God, I've eaten enough for the entire week,” Brendon lets himself fall on his back on the mattress of Ryan's bed, they both ordered an extra large pizza and it seemed like a good idea on the spur of the moment but now Brendon's stomach is two seconds away from exploding. However, Ryan doesn't seem phased at all by all the food he put in his body in the past hour or so.

“You are a little eater,” he laughs quietly, “an extra large pizza is no big deal, one time they made a special offer and you could order an XXL one, which of course I did, and once I was done, I felt as if someone pumped air into my stomach, like a balloon.”

“Who with a decent mindset decides to order an XXL pizza, huh?”

“Me apparently, but it was a tasty pizza so I do not regret my choice. Also, you should not lie down so soon after eating because it will hurt your stomach in a couple of hours, digestion can not be done properly in this position.”

“M'too tired to sit back up.” Brendon mumbles, too content with lying there, immobile.

“Come on, sit up,” Ryan grabs one of Brendon's arms and pull him in a sitting position, facing him, “see? It was not that hard to do.”

Brendon nods then shrugs, “still, it was more comfortable to lie down, your mattress is the perfect balance between hard and soft.”

“Do not try to flatter me in order to lie down again, you will thank me when you will not wake up in the middle of the night with a terrible stomach ache.”

“How long until I can lie down?”

“In an hour approximatively.”

“Fine. Thank you for bearing with me, I know it's not exactly the way you expected our date to go, but still you put up with me and my whims, so thank you for that” he leans in and press a soft kiss on Ryan's cheek, nuzzling it for a second before pulling away.

“I do not think that whim is the right way to describe it, sometimes situations are comfortable for specific people and the complete opposite for other people, it is just the difference between humans. Whim is about being capricious and you were not.”

“Not everybody understand that situations aren't approached the same way by everyone, so thank you anyway, for understanding.”

“It is the right thing to do so no need to thank me,” the thing with Ryan, it seems, is that he lacks the ability to understand that there are assholes out there and that good people should be cherished. Just because it's normal to do the good doesn't mean it shouldn't be highly appreciated.

Brendon simply nods and accept his defeat for this time, he knows Ryan won't let go of the idea that thanking someone for doing something good is unecessary. They stay silent for a little while, comfortable silence between them despite the cars honking down the streets. More than once, Ryan open his mouth as if he was about to say something only to close it back again.

“Enthralling,” he finally says.

Brendon frowns, confused for a second, “what?”

“Earlier tonight I did not find the right word to describe how you looked tonight; enthralling.”

All night Brendon has felt insecure about the way he looked compared to Ryan's colleagues, and here is Ryan sitting in front of him, calling him enthralling, he hasn't been complimented like that in a long while. He takes a deep breath to say something back, anything, but before he has the chance to, Ryan is leaning closer, one of his hands taking place on the nape of Brendon's neck, looking into his eyes for an authorization to go further.

Brendon's throat feels too tight to form a word, so instead he wraps an arm around Ryan's waist and pulls him closer to him until their bodies are almost touching. The small smile that is Ryan's reaction leaves Brendon staring in awe, before his brain can process, Ryan's pressing his lips against his own, with more passion than Brendon's used to with him.

They make out for a moment, holding each other as close as their position allows them to, until Ryan decides to get more comfortable as well as closer to Brendon by straddling his lap, carefully pushing him to lie down on the bed, without ever breaking the kiss.

Soon enough their breathings get heavier, the kiss increasing in passion the longer it gets, Brendon pulls out for air causing Ryan to have to move his attention somewhere else. He starts kissing Brendon's neck, his fingers entangled in the man's hair, with the characteristical softness that is Ryan's.

“Wait,” Brendon protests out of breath when he feels Ryan's hand sneak up to unbutton the top of his shirt, “I-uhm I don't think this is a good idea.”

“You do not want to?” he lifts his head to look at Brendon, his hand rubbing circles on his chest.

“I don't think it's the r-right-” Brendon heart beats so fast and hard he's certain Ryan can feel it pounding with his soft caresses.

“Shh, calm down,” he places a soft kiss on Brendon's lips before rolling off of him to lie next to him on his side, “it is okay, do not worry.”

Brendon nods frantically and rolls on his side to face Ryan who doesn't seem angry with him nor disappointed, or anything for that matter, he's just looking at him the same way he always does.

“Is that why you wanted to leave the celebration earlier?” he bites his lip, his nervosity growing with each passing minute.

“What? Wait, you think I proposed to leave in order to have my way with you?” he sighs and continues when Brendon nods shyly, “Bren, I did not plan this at all, it is just that we kissed and it felt like the right continuation of the situation, I am sorry if my attitude has upset you.”

“You didn't upset me, it was just a misunderstanding from me, and I get touchy when I'm tired and I haven't had a good night of sleep in what seems to be forever.”

Ryan nods and takes a hold of one of Brendon's hands, kissing the knuckles one by one, his lips barely touching the skin, sending shivers throughout Brendon's entire body. “You can stay here for the night if you want,” he whispers, “I promise I will not try anything with you.”

Ryan takes that as a yes when Brendon squeezes his hand for a second, remaining silent. They lie there, close enough to feel one another's breath, staring, firmly holding hands. Ryan nuzzles Brendon's hand going back to kissing his knuckles, “what is in your head pretty boy?”

For a second, Brendon would like to joke and reply that just like in Ryan's there's a brain sitting there in this prison cell made of bone, but the man looks so serious asking this question that he doesn't feel like joking right now.

“A giant mess, thoughts, memories, all scattered, too much, way too much content, more than I'd like to, so many things you wouldn't want to know.”

“I do want to know, there are certainly dark things going on in your mind at all times, I can feel it, even see it in your eyes and do not think I would not want to know about them. When you will be ready, remember that you can share these thoughts and whatever going on in there, with me, okay?”

“You'll regret saying that someday.”

“I will not. I will not regret wanting to know you.”

They exchange a chaste kiss and go back to looking at one another, hand in hand, until eventually their eyelids start feeling heavy, and they fall asleep, Ryan quickly following Brendon in his seemingly peaceful slumber.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always you are encouraged to comment and/or leave kudos.
> 
> Also, special thank you to the lovely Sarah for being my new beta!


	10. Chapter 10

When Brendon regains semi-consciousness in the early hours of the morning, he feels well rested, comfortably installed in bed, warmth radiating against him, a solid figure providing him a sense of security. He missed waking up with company next to him, the contentment he gets from it, unlike when he wakes up by himself in a half-cold bed. He scoots closer to the figure lying next to him, breathing in the faint scent of cologne from the previous night, fruity yet spicy.

He smiles at the scent and nuzzles what might be a shoulder. “Uhm Spence” he mumbles, his voice still heavy with sleep. It doesn't take him long to slip back into a deep and peaceful slumber.

 

***

 

When he wakes up again a few hours later, the sun has risen, lighting up the whole room, making it hard for Brendon to open his eyes fully so soon after waking up. He turns around, away from the light, and is met with crumpled sheets, still warm from the body that was lying there not too long ago.

After a moment spent lying there, perfectly content, Brendon decides it's time for him to get up. At first he feels kind of lost, since the bedroom he's in is anything but familiar to him. However, memories from the night before are quick to come back to his mind, appeasing his nerves.

When he steps into the kitchen, Ryan is sitting there, a mug filled with tea cradled by his long fingers, and he's still wearing the same clothes as the night before, just like Brendon. Ryan looks up to see Brendon standing there, and returns his attention to his tea.

“You got up early?” Brendon asks, taking a seat next to Ryan around the tiny table.

“Uhm,” he nods, “there's coffee in the microwave for you, if you want.”

For a second, Brendon's taken aback by the fact that Ryan contracted his words, for the first time since they've met at the party. He thinks something might be wrong, but he didn't do anything, unless Ryan's upset about them not doing anything the previous night. He had said it was perfectly fine, but maybe he just said that to be a gentleman.

He shakes his head to push his thoughts away and goes to take the mug out of the microwave. He adds two and a half sugars, cutting them into halves before dropping them in the warm liquid. He's probably reading too much into such a simple thing; he just contracted his words because it's the morning and he doesn't feel like talking sophisticatedly, and it's just Brendon's paranoia talking.

“It was nice, last night, and I haven't slept like that in forever, so thanks for letting me stay for the night.”

Ryan doesn't look up, just stares inside his mug, running his fingernails along the handle. “No problem, glad you're feeling better.”

Once again he contracts his words, and talks lazily, and he's not as effortlessly sophisticated as he usually is and Brendon can't help but feel like his thoughts from earlier weren't just due to his paranoia.

“Did I do something to offend you?” He stares at Ryan, to gauge his facial expressions, in hope to find a sign that would give something away about Ryan's mindset, but nothing, he looks just as emotionless as Richard did last night at the celebration.

“Listen,” he sighs loudly, “I don't mind if you already have someone, it's just that I would have liked you to tell me, instead of ridiculing me like that.”

“What? I don't. I don't have anybody, what are you talking about?” Brendon's heart starts to pound in his chest, so hard he can hear its beating in his ears, and no matter how unpleasing it is, it's still better than the deafening silence that's currently filling the room.

“Spence. You woke up and called me Spence.”

“I-” Brendon's begging for the ground to open up and swallow him whole and drop him into the depths of hell where Satan would laugh and point him to his reserved seat around the giant table of the evil. “I don't remember that, I was probably still in whatever dream I had at the moment.”

“You do not lie well pr- Brendon.” He finally looks up at Brendon, who's bright red and sweaty, fidgeting on his seat, looking two seconds away from passing out.

“I'm not lying.” He's only half-lying, he truly doesn't remember calling him Spencer, but he clearly knows why it happened and it had nothing to do with a dream he might have had. Ryan is starting to talk like he always does though, so it's a good thing, but Brendon's shaky voice does no good in justifying himself.

“Then why do you look like you could die at any second? I am understanding, just tell me you are with someone already or that you simply are in love with someone. We can be just friends, your company is utterly pleasing and I would like to keep it, but be honest with me, it is important.” When all the color drains from Brendon's face, he sighs and stands up to put his mug in the sink. “Please?”

Brendon's stuck. He can't lie to Ryan, he wouldn't believe whatever he might say, but he doesn't want Ryan to be hurt, and he can't tell the truth (correction- doesn't want to), not now. How can you tell someone you might have mistaken them for your ex? Your ex who died a couple of months ago? You can't, there's no way to do this right.

He stands behind Ryan and stares at the back of his neck, as if the answers were written there. He hesitates for a minute before wrapping his arms tightly around Ryan's waist, resting his forehead against his upper back.

“I'm not with anyone, and I enjoy your company too. I don't know where it'll lead us, but I want to see what's awaiting us on that road. I just need to take things slow, and that's the truth.”

“Who is he?” Ryan lets go of the sink and places one hand over Brendon's arms, slowly caressing his forearms with his fingertips.

“I don't know,” he sighs and presses his cheek between Ryan's shoulder blades, “I don't know how to tell you, I don't want you to look at me differently or think of me differently.” He closes his eyes tightly, his cheeks getting wet, and Ryan feels them seeping through his shirt, and he turns around to hold Brendon tightly against his chest.

“Whatever you have to say, it will not change the affection I have for you, that is a promise.” Brendon just nods weakly, his tears now soaking his cheeks as well as Ryan's shirt. “Come on, we are going back to bed; you will be better there.” He lifts Brendon up, holding him securely by his thighs.

He lays Brendon down on the bed, tucking him under the bedcovers. Ryan lays down next to him once he's comfortably installed. Almost instantly, Brendon scoots closer, hiding his face in Ryan's neck, sniffing discreetly, hoping to be quiet enough not to be heard, which is impossible in the heavy silence of the room. Even outside, the cars don't honk, the passers don't talk loudly enough to be heard from up here, and there’s just complete silence, except for Brendon's sniffing.

Ryan kisses the top of Brendon's head, letting his lips linger there for a moment, his arms tightly wrapped around the man's waist, and his hands caress his upper back in soothing circles. Brendon remains silent, clinging to Ryan's shirt. Ever since he's heard about Spencer's death on the news, he pushed back the moment where it'd hit him. He didn't want to cry, and he thought that somehow by not crying it wouldn't feel real to him. All of this wouldn't be real. All the times he thought about Spencer he just pushed the thoughts away.  _It's not the moment,_ he told himself, and it never was the moment, until it all became too much to handle, and now the tears are coming out and they don't seem to have plans to stop anytime soon.

Spencer is gone, forever, and he'll never know how sorry Brendon is for overreacting when he just suggested they take time on their own for the sake of their couple. He'll never know how it made Brendon feel to wake up next to him every morning, to smell him before being aware of anything else. Nor will he know how his heart felt lighter every time he told him  _“I love you”,_ how much easier it was to go through the anniversaries of his parents death and any other date related to them just by being here for him, to make him smile and laugh even when he wanted to throw himself through the window. He'll never know he helped Brendon keep his sanity in the hardest times, how loved he made Brendon feel every time he gazed at him, how brighter the world seemed to him thanks to Spencer's presence in his life.

He shouldn't be here when Spencer isn't, he shouldn't laugh or smile or feel anything that isn't sadness and grief; his life shouldn't go on without the one person he thought he'd have kept for the rest of his life. He shouldn't kiss another man, touch another man, or share a bed with another man than Spencer. He shouldn't. Yet he does, and he can't help but feel disgusted with himself.

Here is a beautiful man who cares about him, wants to know him, wants to try and build something with him, but what he ignores is that Brendon's ex got murdered no more than two months ago and still his life goes on; he doesn't know how disgusting Brendon truly is. He's worth so much more than a man who hides his love for someone, a man who pushes away his feelings constantly.

When his sobs slow down and he's cried enough for a year, and he doesn't know how much time has passed, and all he knows is that Ryan is still holding him, his head gently pressed against his own, his hands still rubbing his back in an attempt to soothe him.

“Ryan?” he mumbles against his collarbone, his voice hoarse from all the crying, “do you have to go to work today?” he asks once Ryan hums to show him he has his full attention.

“Only this afternoon, but I can stay here with you if you want me to. You could take a nap and then I would cook you something. Pasta, most likely, because it is the only meal I can cook that is edible.”

Brendon laughs brokenly, pressing even closer to Ryan. “Pastas sound perfect.”

“Good, I might get crazy and open a can of sauce to go with it.” They both laugh quietly and shortly.

“Sorry for crying like that, it-”

“Hey,” Ryan cuts him off mid-sentence, “it is okay to cry; sometimes it is needed, and you should never be sorry for feeling. It is human, and I do not believe in the whole myth that men do not or should not cry.”

“I'll explain, just, give me time to think about how to say it.” He turns his head to face Ryan. His face is definitely wet and reddened, his eyes swollen, but he doesn't give it too much thought.

“Take the time you need, just remember you do not have to be scared about talking to me.”

“You wouldn't get distant again?” Brendon dares to ask.

“Again?”

“When I talked to you about Brochan accusing me of beating him up, you got cold and hung up.”

“Oh, no, I was not cold, I needed to get going at work because Richard gave me his signature stern look and I did not want to make him mad. I do not know what happened between you and Brochan, but if you say you did not do anything, then I believe you.”

“Why not believe Brochan? You've known him longer.”

“It does not make him more reliable. I appreciate the man, but proclaiming false accusations sounds like something he could do, so I would rather believe you.”

“Thank you.” He places a kiss right behind Ryan's ear and keep his lips there, pressed against the skin. Talking about this reminds him he needs to go check the security cam at the café with Aelyn, and he also needs to find another job to be able to live while the café is closed, but as long as Brochan's accusations go on, nobody will want to hire him.

 

***

 

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Television was way more fun to watch when Brendon was younger, but now it seems to be the same stuff over and over again, on every single channel he flips through. Or maybe the programs aren't becoming more boring, but he has just become too old to enjoy it. He doesn't know what's worse, being too old to enjoy what you used to find utterly interesting or realizing one day the decline of the television programs.

Unfortunately, he is stuck here on Ryan's couch, switching channels, hoping he'll find something remotely interesting to watch. Ryan had to go to work after lunch time, and Brendon insisted that he needed to go and that he'd be just fine waiting here until dinner time when Ryan would cook pasta for the both of them.

Brendon knows how important this job is to Ryan, he doesn't know to what extent it is, but he knows it is important to him nonetheless, so he couldn't let Ryan miss work today just because he happened to have a breakdown when he woke up.

After half an hour into switching channels Brendon reaches the foreign countries' channels, with news shows in Arabic, Russian, and even Chinese. None of it makes sense, but he still stops on a Turkish channel where it seems to be a soap opera or something similar. All he knows is that a woman is crying while a man looks like he couldn't care less about being there, and Brendon bets that the man has just announced that he's leaving the woman for another. A typical scenario in soap operas.

An old, elegant, and apparently rich woman bursts into the room and starts yelling at the man, waving both of her hands in the air frantically. Weirdly enough, Brendon finds himself interested in knowing what's going on in this Turkish  _The Young and the Restless_ , but he's being snapped out of it when the home phone starts ringing.

He stares at it from across the room, as if it would answer itself or magically stop ringing. He's not in a position to pick up the phone, and it's not even his apartment, but it could be Ryan calling to check on him, and if he doesn't pick up it'll get him worried out of his mind.

He takes a deep breath and picks up, forgetting to talk for a second after pressing the receiver against his ear, and he clears his throat and finally says, “hello?” hesitantly.

“Ryan?” a rough feminine voice asks, and doesn't even wait for Brendon to say anything before continuing, “I'm going on vacation with Frederick on Friday and I would like to know if you were willing to take care of Tootsie. Of course, I will drop her off at your apartment on our way to the airport.”

“I-uhm, who's Tootsie?” he asks hesitantly.

“Ryan? You sound- different. Are you okay?”

“Actually, I'm a friend of Ryan, he's at work right now, but he can call you later?”

“Oh,” the woman laughs deeply, “a friend, I see. Well, for your information, Tootsie is my dog and Ryan won't object to keep her while we are away. Just let him know when he comes back.”

“I will.”

“Great, goodbye honey” is the last thing she says before hanging up, leaving Brendon confused and slightly uncomfortable. He hopes Ryan won't see any problem with taking care of Tootsie for a few days because the woman clearly left him no other choice. Maybe Ryan would have been more resistant. Brendon had no right to argue with whoever was on the line, so it was better that he didn't.

After this little distraction, Brendon goes back on the couch to watch the Turkish soap opera where women are fighting and yelling at each other.  _Do these people ever stop fighting?_ he wonders,  _too much drama is too much._ They keep fighting some more before falling into each other’s arms, crying dramatically and rather ungracefully, to be honest.

He remembers watching _The Young and the Restless_ with his mother when he was a little boy. She was a huge fan of the show, and she never missed a single episode. When he came back from school he dropped his bag in the entry way and came on the couch to cuddle his mom while they watched the episode of the day. His mother reacted to every single drama that was going on, shaking her head sometimes, sighing or insulting certain characters.

There was always drama about someone married lusting after someone else, most of the time, also married, and there was a so-called suspense for episodes about whether or not the truth would blow. When it finally did, there was yelling, crying, and the typical excuse that it was a mistake and that it would never happen again, but they always did it again, obviously.

Now he's a grown man, sitting by himself, watching a soap opera in Turkish, and it doesn't feel as comfortable as he remembers it.

When he turns his attention back to the television, the news are on, with incomprehensible titles and subtitles all over the screen. In the far right corner of the screen is a picture of what seems to be a restaurant, and Brendon assumes it might be because of food poisoning happening there, forcing the restaurant to close.

They then shows a picture of two young girls and Brendon's suddenly not so sure about what they're talking about anymore. They wouldn't show this picture if it was food poisoning, especially since this picture is apparently dated from 2008, judging by the date in the corner of the picture.

He sighs and changes the channel, going back to switching channels until he stops on a Tom and Jerry re-run. It's a good cartoon and it doesn’t need to be in his language at all since it's on mute. It's a bit like Roadrunner & Wile E Coyote. They keep running after each other in every single episode, and somehow, even though you know exactly how it'll end, you have a good time watching it.

No matter how old you are, you can always enjoy watching this cartoon and Brendon hopes he'll never be too old to laugh by himself watching a cat run after a mouse with absolutely no dialogues.

Between two episodes there's obviously endless advertisements, so Brendon gets a bowl of cereal in the kitchen before sitting back in front of the television. He doesn't really care that it's nearly evening. He's wearing pajamas and watching a cartoon, so yes, he'll have cereal as well. It makes him feel better, almost as if he was a child all over again.

Halfway done with his bowl of cereal, he hears the door opening, and the sound of keys being dropped on a table. He puts his bowl down and turns around to peek over the back of the couch to see Ryan standing there, exhausted, his tie as well as a couple of buttons undone.

“You are not supposed to eat sugar before dinner, not even at night, you know that?”

“Yes mom.” Brendon suppresses a smile when Ryan narrows his eyes at him.

“You did not get bored all by yourself? You have been okay?”

“As you can see, I'm still alive and in one piece, so I feel okay.”

“Good,” he takes a seat beside Brendon on the couch, shaking his head at the bowl sitting on the coffee table, “so, what did you do?”

“Stayed here, stole pajamas from your closet, watched television, and ate cereal. Nothing exciting. You? How was your day?”

Ryan sighs and let himself slump on the couch, draping an arm over his face. “Tiring. We give the opportunity to be published to people who do not deserve it. They cannot even write an entire page without making grammatical errors. And let me be honest, their novels are not even anything special, it is such a waste.”

“Why don't you speak your mind? Or show them your own work to show them what talent is?”

“I am an employee who is charged to correct any mistake there might be, I am not asked to give my opinion,” he laughs quietly and let his arm drop back on the couch, “how do you even know I used to write?”

They look at one another before they both say “Aelyn” at the same time.

“I am not good, but I do know what is good and what is not.”

“Write. It doesn't matter if it's good or not, do it for the sake of writing.”

“What is the point if it is not anything special nor good? It saves me time, and I should not be wasting it on activities that do not have any future ahead.”

“If it really is bad, then keep writing and it'll be better. If you love doing it, it doesn't matter if you're good at it or not, keep doing it and you'll progress.”

“Come on,” he smiles and pecks the tip of Brendon's nose, “I promised you pasta with sauce, I need to keep it, even though you have been a bad boy and ate cereal before dinner.”

 

***

 

“Pasta with tomato and tuna sauce,” Ryan announces proudly as he places the platter on the center of the table. “Well, it is from a can but it is tasty according to comments on the internet.”

“So fancy, chef.”

They quickly start eating while it's still hot and it turns out to actually be delicious for such a simple dish. Some might think it's nothing special, but for Brendon it is. Not only because he hasn't eaten a proper meal in the past few weeks, but also because Ryan cooked it for him, despite his limited skills in cooking.

A glass of wine would go perfectly with this meal, but Ryan doesn't have any, doesn't seem to have alcohol at all in his apartment, which could be weird for a man in his late twenties, but in some way, it makes sense, it suits everything Ryan embodies.

“A woman called earlier, asked if you could keep an eye on a dog for a while.” Brendon tries to bring up the subject casually, because he doesn't know how to say it and it's kind of stupid because there is absolutely no reason to be scared of saying something as simple as that.

“You talked to my mother?” Ryan drops his fork in his plate, the clinging sound echoing in the quiet apartment.

“In my defense I didn't know it was your mother, and she thought I was you at first because she didn't let me talk before asking about the dog. I told her I was your friend, and she said you'd have no problem with taking care of Tootsie while she's on vacation and she hung up.” He doesn't even know why he talks this fast.

“Of course she took advantage of my absence to give me no other choice,” he sighs, “I love the dog though, it is just that my mother only thinks about herself sometimes. I cannot keep the dog and go to work, it will break objects or scratch the couch and I do not want to have to worry about what the dog might be doing while I am working.”

“I'm sorry, I didn't know what to tell her. I didn't even want to pick up the phone at first, but I thought that maybe it'd be you checking on me and I didn't want you to worry.” Brendon looks down at his plate, his lower lip jutting out slightly.

“It is okay,” Ryan rests his hand on Brendon's, rubbing his thumb on the back of the other man's hand, “you are touchy again, maybe you should sleep, I will drop you off at your apartment tomorrow. There is absolutely no problem.”

“Every excuse is a good one to keep me with you for another night huh?” he smiles softly.

“Maybe a little bit, but I care about your well-being, and I can drop you at your apartment now if you want to, I do not mind.”

“I don't feel like being alone tonight, so I'd rather stay here for the night, plus it's not recommended to travel in a car right after eating.”

“True,” he pats Brendon's hand and finishes his plate, “it is not recommended to lie down right after either so maybe we should eat dessert while watching the television.”

 

***

 

What Brendon fails to understand in the logic of these movies is that the man always gets a woman at the end but in the next movie there's another woman and it starts again. The previous woman is never mentioned again, and you don't know what happened to her, and it's as if she never existed. Somehow everybody's perfectly fine with that. Just like they're perfectly fine with the main character looking different every four or so movies.

Despite all the action going on in the movie, with the explosions and gunshots, Brendon feels sleep washes over him, making his eyelids feel heavier every time he blinks. His back is pressed tightly against Ryan's chest, who's now rubbing his thumb over Brendon's stomach, lazily, almost unconsciously by now.

He still has to tell Ryan about Spencer, and he's still scared about it, but for now, he tries not to overthink it, and he'll freak out when it'll be time for him to talk. Right now, he just wants to make the most of this situation, being pressed against a warm solid figure, feeling secure and cared for. He misses feeling that way, and he can't stand being alone, can't stand feeling alone. And even though he and Aelyn are closer than ever, they're still not close enough to be as comfortable as Ryan and he, lying on a couch, pressed together.

Maybe it has to do with the fact there is the intention to be more than simple friends between Ryan and him that obviously isn't there with Aelyn, or maybe it's just because you tend to construct something different with everyone you meet. Each link you have with people around you is totally different, and you can never find another one that is the same, which is why once you lose someone, it hurts as much as it does, because you know you won't ever love anyone the way you loved them and nobody will ever love you the same way either. However, it is our job to deal with it and accept the defeat.

He doesn't know if he's ready to let himself get attached to someone in that way again, and he doesn't know if he still has strength left to fall in love with someone whom he knows will leave in the end. Ryan is one of the sweetest and most caring person he's ever met, and he's handsome and smart, and has that special thing about him that makes him mesmerizing. He's understanding, and he's warm and he has the perfect scent between fruity and spicy. He's just like the men in romantic movies, the men you know are too good to be true and genuine in their attitude. Except that he seems genuine, but then again, so do the men in movies at first.

“Ryan?” he whispers, pressing his ear against Ryan's chest to listen to his slow heart beats. Ryan hums to signal he has his full attention, but Brendon has already fallen asleep, comfortably installed in the warmth of Ryan's embrace.

 


	11. Chapter 11

Brendon is awoken by the loud noise of his phone vibrating on the wooden night table beside Ryan's bed. He whines, still half asleep, face pressed into the pillow, Ryan's still sleeping deeply next to him, an arm drapped over Brendon's back. Brendon scoots closer to the edge of the bed and reaches blindly to try and grab his phone, he almost knocks down the lamp in the process but his hand finally hit his phone.

“Hello?” he mumbles sleepily, not bothering to check who's calling him.

“Where the hell are you? You weren't home all day yesterday and I come check on you this morning to find an empty appartment. I wanted to go check the café's security cam in the morning,” Aelyn sounds a mix of worried, upset and angry.

“M'sorry, I stayed with Ryan, I'm coming home today,” he feels the mattress move under him, the sound of rustling sheets catching his attention. Ryan is stretching out, rocking from side to side with his arms stretched above his head, Brendon can't suppress a smile. He tries to hide it by shoving his face in the pillow.

“Oh, so the party went well huh? I wait for you, sitting on your too cold bed, how do you even sleep in there? Anyway, you better tell me everything when you come back, and even if you don't I'll ask Ryan as well so I'll end up knowing everything,” she sounds much lighter and enthusiastic than when Brendon picked up.

The only response she gets from Brendon is a mumble that sounds like he's humming, she laughs and hang up. He sighs loudly, his breath warming up the pillow underneath his face, he lifts it lazily and gather just enough energy to turn around on his back.

“I need to go home,” he mumbles, rubbing his eyes.

“I have to go to work,” Ryan mumbles next to him, they both sigh and sit up, one after the other, “I will drive you back home on my way to work.”

Once they find the motivation to get up, they quickly get dressed, Ryan cursing as he realizes it's already ten past nine, he grabs a box of cereals on their way out and eat rapidly while descending the stairs shortly followed by Brendon, who would rather go back to bed. When they get in the car it's Brendon's turn to start eating cereals directly out of the box, he did that once when he was a teenager and he was late for school, his mother punished him for it.

“I am sorry I did not make you a proper breakfast,” Ryan says, parking in front of Brendon's building.

“That's okay, cereal is perfectly fine.”

“Well, I will talk to you later then,” he stares at Brendon longingly, with that look in his eyes that Brendon knows means he's about to kiss him, but the kiss never comes, instead he awkwardly pats Brendon's shoulder and give him a soft smile which Brendon returns.

Maybe Ryan changed his mind about him, maybe he doesn't want to try and go further anymore, he looked like he was about to kiss him, so why did he not do it? It's not like Brendon would have pushed him away or anything along those lines. Maybe Brendon talked in his sleep and said awful things, maybe Ryan is mad about him talking to his mother when he wasn't even in his own appartment meaning he didn't have the right to answer the phone.

Brendon's so lost in his thoughts that he walks right past his front door and doesn't realize until he reaches the end of the endless corridor. He takes a deep breath and tries to calm down, Ryan was just in a hurry, that's all, everything is perfectly fine between them.

“Well you came back quicker than I thought, didn't have time for a quickie?” Aelyn says brightly the second she spots Brendon stepping in.

“Ha ha!” he fakes laughter, “he had to go to work, and for your information we didn't do anything like that.”

“You're telling me Ryan didn't have sex? Despite having a handsome man in his bed? All night?”

“That's exactly what I'm telling you.”

“Wow,” she blinks a few times, fast, “that's actually,” she pauses, “really cute.”

“Yes, I guess. You said we could go to the café today?” he changes the subject so quickly, Aelyn can't not pick up on it, but she lets it go for once.

“I have the keys, mom gave them to me after she went to clean a little and put a sign to say the café is closed for an undetermined period. Apparently dad doesn't want me to take care of the business until he gets better, and mom wants to stay by his side in the meantime,” she rolls her eyes exaggerately.

“He's still mad at you?”

“Apparently yes, even mom seems to be angry, she just tries to hide it because deep inside she's still my mom so she doesn't want to let me know I pissed her off. It's different with my dad.”

“Everything will be over soon, we will check the recordings to see if there are any evidence proving my innocence, and with luck there'll be some and we'll prove to the police that Brochan isn't telling the truth,” he rubs Aelyn's arm, trying to be reassuring.

“Let's go,” is all she says before they leave the appartment.

When they enter the café, the chairs are upside down over the tables, every surface perfectly clean from Mary's visit earlier in the day, it is exactly the way they leave it when they're done with the day, except this time, it has an eerie feeling to it. They are ill-at-ease but try not to think about it too much, in hope, that way, it won't overwhelm them.

Aelyn goes directly in the back of the café, looking straight ahead, shortly followed by Brendon who's trying to look at anything but his surroundings. In the break room, Aelyn sits at a computer on the small desk that sits in the corner of the room, Brendon didn't know it even worked since Brochan did none of his paperwork on it. Aelyn laughs and types on the keyboard shaking her head, her reaction must be due to the password, but Brendon doesn't know it and he doesn't dare to ask so he just shut his mouth, not knowing why it got this reaction from Aelyn.

“At what time did you leave?” Aelyn asks raising an eyebrow at her cousin.

“Late? I don't remember, eleven maybe midnight, I didn't check the time,” he takes a seat beside Aelyn and peeks at the screen, showing hundreds of video files.

“Well, at what time did you arrive then?”

“Some time around nine,” he affirms firmly.

“Let me see,” she clicks on the video from Saturday and speeds up until the time at the bottom right of the video reads _'21:00PM',_ she changes the speed so that it's going by slower but still faster than normal and after a couple of minutes, they can clearly see Brendon heading to the back of the café. They keep watching, staring at the empty dimly lit café on the screen, time seeming fixed, the time at the bottom flies by and yet it still feels like they paused the video.

After half an hour of watching the exact same image, Brendon appears again, leaving the back of the café, at precisely thirty-two past eleven. They keep watching the video but when the time reads quarter to one, in other words, the time Brochan called an ambulance, it is clear that no one entered nor left the café after Brendon's departure. Aelyn slowly turns to look at Brendon who's still staring at the screen as if there was more to see, more to find out.

“No one was in the café Saturday night, except you and dad. Brendon, are you sure you're telling me the truth about what happened?”

“Yes,” his eyes get teary as he sits straighter on his chair, “I didn't touch him, I promise.”

“The video is the proof that no one else was in the café, and dad didn't beat himself up.”

“Maybe the camera stopped at some point,” he suggests hopefully but Aelyn shakes her head, she's certain the time didn't skip, not once, “I'm fucked, the police is going to check it sooner or later, and they'll think I'm guilty, but I am not, Aelyn, I'm not.”

“I want to believe you, I truly do, but I can't deny facts,” she gestures towards the screen, “I know my dad is a pain in the ass and he tends to say hurtful things so I'd understand that you got mad and tried to shut him up with your fists. But tell me, just tell me Brendon.”

“I didn't do it,” tears roll down his cheeks, his eyes reddening quickly as he looks at Aelyn pleadingly, “I left the café, and I went back to my appartment, I went directly to bed and I slept all night until you woke me up by banging on my front door.”

“You didn't remember at what time you left but you remembered perfectly at what time you arrived, you must admit that it's not good for your case.”

“Oh sorry I don't check out the time every time I leave a place, I'm pretty sure you don't do it either, nobody does it, unless it's compulsive,” he snaps, wiping his tears with the back of his hand.

“Nobody cares about the numbers of things, like how many people are in a room or how many cakes are in a box, yet you do, so sorry to think you could pay attention to something as simple as the time.”

“Because you think it's fun? To start shaking and not being able to concentrate on anything but the number that's bothering you? To feel like you're going to pass out if it's not corrected as soon as possible? Let me tell you, it's not. Sorry if I'm a weirdo who doesn't pay attention to simple things,” he stands up, the chair falling at the speed of his movements, and leave the café as quickly as he can, furiously wiping his wet cheeks only to feel them wet a second later.

He knows he didn't beat up Brochan, and he'll prove it, one way or another. Maybe he should have checked the time when he left the café, but it's not the first thing one thinks about when they enter or leave a place. He always takes time to count the numbers of people in a room, always check the volume of the television, always counts the numbers of biscuits in a box, yet he doesn't bother to check the time.

He keeps walking until he reaches a bench on which he sits, hugging his knees to rest his head on them, so that he could cry without being seen, even though in this position every passer would clearly know what's going on.

When he arrived here, he was frustrated about ending up back to square one, the one place he hates on this earth, but soon enough, he found Aelyn and even though at first he just wanted her to leave, she turned out to be nicer than he remembered. Over time they got closer, and as much as his younger self would hate him for it, he cares about what Aelyn thinks, and her words cut deeper now than they used to. She's all he has now, and even her doesn't care about him nor believes him, she even thinks he's a weirdo.

Suddenly, he feels a warm hand on his shoulder, causing him to startle and look up to see Aelyn standing behind the bench, an apologetic smile on her face. Brendon wipes his cheeks and rests his chin on his knees, looking forward, silently sniffing. She takes a seat besides him and leans her head on his shoulder, her hand on Brendon's calf.

“I didn't mean it, I was just frustrated, I'm sorry,” she whispers softly.

“You wouldn't have said it if you wouldn't think it, no matter how frustrated you obviously thought it enough to say it.”

“I thought it on the moment, but I- I didn't mean to hurt you, it's the very last thing I want, Brendon.”

He leans his cheek on his knees, so that he can look at Aelyn, “you still hate me huh?”

“I introduced you to my friends, got you a job, let my favorite person on earth crush on you, am against my own father to support you, and I'm sitting here with you when I could have gone back home. Is that what you do for someone you hate? Plus I didn't ever hate you.”

“I just thought-”

“Well you thought wrong” she cuts him off.

“What am I gonna do now? The only thing that could have proven my innocence incriminates me. I don't want to go to jail,” tears start streaming down his face again quickly wiped away by Aelyn.

“You won't go to jail, I won't let that happen.”

“You said yourself that the facts can't be ignored, if you didn't believe me why would strangers do?”

“I think you're guilty, you just don't remember doing it, which is weird, but I won't let you go to jail, I won't,” she runs her fingers up and down his calf as if it would make her words sting less.

“You don't even believe me,” he turns his face away, sniffing loudly, full on crying by now, it's funny how he stayed months without crying and now it's as if he can't stop crying about the littlest things. Even though it's not something unimportant.

“Bren,” she sighs.

“Leave me alone, no need to force yourself” even though she can't see him, she can hear in his voice that he's crying steadily, and it makes her heart ache.

“I'm not forcing myself, Brendon, just because I don't think you're innocent doesn't mean I don't care about you, I'm here,” she wraps an arm around his shoulder pulling him closer, “despite thinking you're guilty, doesn't that show I care about you? Why are you so touchy today?”

“Because I got hit by a wave of feelings, so the inside shows on the outside. Welcome in my head,” he exhales shakily, his tears stopping gradually.

“I'm not good at expressing what I feel, not orally at least, I'm better at showing it, but you need words right now so I'm going to try and express my feelings the best I can,” she licks her lips and clears her throat hesitantly, “you're the brother I've never had, I'm _so_ glad to have you in my life, I love going shopping with you, I love simply sitting at a table to eat with you and talk about anything, I love watching tv and fighting with you over stupid details. I care about you, more than you'll ever know.”

Brendon turns his head slowly, gazing at his cousin with a soft smile on his face, he leans his head on hers, “I care about you too.”

 

***

 

The wind blows gently, caressing Brendon's skin while he sits on the grass, cross-legged, just like he had been over a decade ago. However, there are no flowers anymore, nobody bothers decking the graves with flowers, as if now that the grief has been done, they can completely turn the page and abandon them. Maybe they did forget about them, but Brendon didn't and he can't even begin to understand how it can be possible for someone to forget people they've once loved.

He thought about coming here a few times since he came back in this hell hole, but he never gathered the courage to do it. He's always hated cemetery, ever since he was a kid, but since his parents died, he has no other choice than to overcome his fear.

“I know a long time has passed since the last time I visited you and I'm sorry for that. I left the day I graduated, and no I didn't go to college, I worked at a calling center in Phoenix instead. You probably know that already but I feel the need to tell you anyway, just like when I was a little boy and wanted to share every detail of my day with you.”

He laughs softly, “I met nice people in Phoenix, made a few friends, one especially, we were inseparable and I knew I could tell him absolutely anything, but then he moved in another state and we lost contact quicker than I thought. I partied a lot, too much probably, or not in the right way at least. I slept around, with almost everyone I met, but you don't want to hear about that, you're my parents, my prude and conservative parents.”

He picks at the grass and sigh, “I met a nice man there, I wish you could have met him, he was beautiful at all times, he listened to me when I needed it, he made me smile and laugh and I was truly happy with him, for the first time in my life,” tears start to blur his vision but he ignores them, nobody can see him cry anyway, “it changed after almost three years together, for him at least, we fought because he wanted some space and I left, so here I am, back home if I can still call this my home. Soon after I arrived, I found out about Spencer being- uhm- being- murdered, and hell started again, it's as if this city is cursed or something. Oh!”

He perks up, “you'll never know who I found here,” he pauses, “Aelyn, and guess what? We're genuinely getting along now, all we needed was to grow up and spend some time apart. She's amazing, she's one of the best things in my life right now, but it has to stay between you and I, or else I'll hear about it for the next decade.”

A little girl hops around between the tombstone, dropping flowers on them when she passes by, when she gets close to Brendon she stops, holding her bouquet of flowers tightly. She puts down a flower in front of each graves, carefully, eyeing Brendon cautiously, as if she was scared he might start to yell at her. When he doesn't, she smiles at him brightly and sits beside him, still holding her bouquet of flowers with both hands.

“I come everyday with my mommy, she says it's not a place for me but I like it, I put flowers in front of the big rocks, well, those who don't have any. You want me to give you flowers so you can put them on the ground?” she gazes at him with wide green eyes and Brendon can't help but smile, her innocence refreshing.

“There are plenty of graves that need flowers so I'll let you keep the ones you have, plus you already put flowers here, so thanks for that.”

“You're welcome sir, you know, mommy always cry when we come here, and I don't know why, but when I hug her tightly enough it stops her tears,” she smiles at Brendon and stand up to hug him tightly with her tiny arms, Brendon laughs softly and hugs her back.

A woman in her mid-thirties approaches them quickly, wiping at her cheeks with the back of her hand, “sweetie, I already told you not to bother people who come here.”

They pull back from one another's embrace and the little girl pouts, “it's okay, she didn't bother me at all, she made my day brighter,” he smiles at her and pokes her nose playfully which makes her grin at him, “always stay as wonderfully sweet as you are, the world need people like you.”

The little girl nods, still smiling, and hands a yellow flower to Brendon, “it's bright and colorful, yellow always makes me feel better, maybe it'll work for you too.”

“Thank you little angel, I'll keep it preciously,” he holds the flower close to his heart, and the little girl's mother grabs her hand, wanting to leave, Brendon looks at both of them walking away, the green-eyed girl turns around a few times to glance at Brendon, still smiling brightly.

Once they're out of sight, he laughs softly and turns back to his parents, keeping a tight grip on his flower, “I miss the innocence of childhood, well, to be honest, I don't remember seeing the world differently than I do now. I've always seen the dark side of things, even as a little boy, but I wasn't forced to face the cruelty of this world, unlike now.”

He sighs and roll the flower between his thumb and index finger, “Brochan got attacked at his café the other night, and he claims that I am the one who beat him up, and I know deep down that I didn't do it. But, the security cam shows no one else in the café that night, and I can't remember vividly what I did after leaving the café. I'd know it if I would have done it. But like Aelyn said we can't ignore facts, so of course the police will trust the camera more than me. I couldn't even remember at what time I left, when I'm obsessed with numbers, something's off and I don't know what.”

A drop of water falls on the nape of Brendon's neck, tickling him as it slides along the skin, soon enough it'll rain but Brendon doesn't move, “I have learned to cope with my disorder, but I'm getting self-conscious about it again, nobody normal pays attention to numbers like that. Mom, remember when I was in elementary school and someone was missing in the class so we were twenty-four and I got a panic attack over it and everyone made fun of me for that? You told me that I was different but that it was okay. Did you mean that? Or did you just want to make me feel better? Because some differences just make us weird, and that, is not okay.”

He lies down on the grass, in a foetal position, smelling the flower the little girl gave him earlier, “I wish you'd be here to help me, or just hold me, I remember well when I was younger and I felt vulnerable, you always made me sit on your lap and wrapped me in your arms. It made me feel like I was the smallest creature in the entire world. I want to feel like that again, I don't care if I'm too old for it now, I just want to feel like that. You weren't always the best parents but I miss you nonetheless, even you dad,” he laughs softly, aware that if he'd be here, Brendon's dad would give him a stern look before rolling his eyes.

“Oh I didn't tell you, well, I don't know if you even want to know but there's this guy, Aelyn's best friend, I'm pretty sure he likes me, and I like him too, but I feel lost. Spencer died, not too long ago, I shouldn't feel anything for someone else, no matter how beautiful smart and caring that person is. But Ryan is,” he pauses, “he's understanding, always gives witty advices and is naturally nice, he has that way of speaking that I can't really describe but it makes him so mesmerizing. And I swear mom, if you'd see him, you'd understand why I'm attracted to men, I've never met anyone like him. Oh, if you could see the way he looks at me, God, I feel beautiful when his gaze settles on me,” he smiles fondly, like a teenage girl with a crush, “but, it's too soon and I don't see why he would want me anyway, and people around me never stay, never.”

He stays there, lying on the grass, letting the rain fall on him, feeling like a puppy who lost its owner and who can't let go of them. He wishes it would be just a bad dream, not only what is currently happening but most of his past as well, his parents' death, living with his aunt and uncle, driving away, feeling lost, he wants to go back before that. If only...

He jerks awake when he feels a rough hand shaking him, he looks up blinded by the flashlight of the man standing above him, looking at him disapprovingly. He stands up slowly and dust off his clothes even though it's vain since he's soaking wet and half covered in mud, he apologizes to the man who's, judged by his uniform, a security guy. Brendon doesn't know how long he's been lying there, but the sun has come down so it must have been a long time.

On his way home, he can't stop shivering, all he wants is to go back to his appartment, slip on warm dry clothes and maybe go directly to bed, too exhausted to do anything, no motivation to cook, no concentration to sit through an entire movie.

 

***

 

The rope feels rough on the soft skin of his neck, the wooden chair providing him solidity under his feet, he takes a deep breath one last time and kicks the chair off. He hangs in the air for what seemed to be eternity, his body fighting to save itself, his arms gripping at the rope around his neck. He can feel his throat close tightly, his face feeling heavier, warmer.

A faint sound of vibrations echoes inside the spinning room, getting louder and louder every second. Air starts filling his lungs all of a sudden and he chokes himself awake, disoriented, his breath heavy and jerky, _it was just a dream,_ he tells himself inside his head, _just a dream._

The vibrations start again, startling him, he turns to his nightstand and see his phone lit. He grabs his phone, the vibrant light of the screen blinding him, _8 new messages,_ they're all from Aelyn, he taps on the notification and starts reading her texts.

 

 _ **00:11AM:**_ _You disappeared earlier, and you weren't home when I checked before going to bed so I wanted to know if you were okay, and where you were. X_

 

_**01:13AM:** _ _I know you're not with Ryan, I called him to know since last time you didn't come home you were with him. But he didn't see you since this morning._

 

_**02:16AM:** _ _???_

 

_**02:17AM:** _ _You got me worried Bren, so please text me AS SOON AS YOU GET THESE!_

 

_**02:21AM:** _ _Ah! You thought I'd stop texting you! I can't sleep, the worry keeps me awake so please call me or something. Save my poor soul._

 

**_02:24AM:_ ** _Ryan doesn't answer my calls that dumdum I bet he's fast asleep, half drooling on his pillow, while I'm lying here tossing and turning, that's not fair!_

 

**_02:25AM:_ ** _Seriously though, where are you??_

 

**_02:30AM:_ ** _Just so you know I'm staring at my phone right now._

 

Brendon laughs quietly at Aelyn going hysterical over his disappearance which he didn't even know was to be consider as one. He decides to call her before she sends another desperate text, it doesn't take more than a ring for her to pick up the phone.

“Thanks God, you're alive, you have no idea how worried I was, I mean you can do whatever you want with your time but you weren't home when I went to bed and I wondered why so I called Ryan to know if you were with him but you weren't so I started to freak out. I sent texts but you didn't reply so it got me even more worried and I couldn't find sleep because how could I be sleeping when you're God knows where huh?” she takes a deep breath, ready to talk frantically once again but Brendon cuts her off before.

“I'm fine, I went somewhere and lost track of time so I didn't come home before midnight, then I went directly to bed and didn't see your texts, I'm very sorry about that. But I'm fine so you can sleep,” he wants to thank her for waking him up with her frantical texting but he doesn't want to talk about his nightmare, especially not in the middle of the night.

“I must admit I overreacted a tiny bit on that one, but you seemed deeply moved earlier so I needed to check on you, make sure you were fine.”

“I feel better,” he lies, “I could use some sleep though, so we both should go to sleep now, it's super late and we need our beauty sleep.”

“I don't need sleep for my beauty, it's here no matter what,” she laughs brightly, “but you could definitely use some.”

“Thanks,” he mumbles.

“You're welcome,” she pauses, “you know I'm kidding right? You're a beautiful man there's no doubt in that.”

“I know I am,” he teases, feeling much lighter than when he woke up.

“Okay I take that back, you look awful and need to get some beauty sleep if you don't want to scare people and traumatize them,” her laugh quickly turns into a yawn.

“You should sleep now that you know I'm alive and well,” Aelyn hums too lazy to speak, “Aelyn?” she hums again, “can you stay on the phone with me until we fall asleep?” he asks hesitantly.

Aelyn is taken aback by this request, and she has a dozen of questions to ask Brendon about it, but she doesn't, because it's late and because she doesn't want Brendon to feel bad about showing signs of vulnerability, especially with her. So she doesn't say anything except for a quiet yes, and they're quick to fall asleep in complete silence but aware that the other one is on the other end. And somehow it is more than enough for Brendon.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there! Guess who's back? That's right, me. I've been meaning to post this chapter for a couple of weeks, but I wanted to finish writing the next one before posting this one, and since the next one is still only half-written I thought I would post this one anyway because it's been almost a month already. As usual I hope you enjoy this one and don't hesitate to share your theories or give suggestions and this kind of stuff.


	12. Chapter 12

He has no idea why he's doing that right now, he knows exactly how things will go but still he's standing by the window of his appartment, his phone pressed to his ear, counting the rings before someone picks up. After the sixth ring, a soft feminine voice answers, she's kind enough to redirect the call to Brochan's room despite not asking more in depth questions about Brendon's identity. He counts the rings again until Brochan's raspy voice echoes in the receiver, for a moment Brendon can't form a single word, he just stands there, staring at a dead Las Vegas in the daytime through the window.

“Hey,” he finally says, taking a deep breath, “it's Brendon, please don't hang up, I just want to talk and I figured it would be easier for the both of us if it'd happen over the phone, rather than face to face.”

“Why are you calling?” Brochan asks surprisingly calm, Brendon's certain he can see him rubbing his forehead out of frustration.

“Are you sure at a hundred percent, that I am the one who attacked you the other night? I'm not trying to discredit you I'm just trying to understand what happened because I'm convinced I didn't do it, but every evidence proves otherwise.”

“You're fucked up in the head kid, I was there remember? I know for sure it was you, do you think it's fun for me? Because it's not, far from it. I took care of you when you were in desperate need of it, and then you disappeared one day leaving a fucking post-it note behind, as if Mary and I weren't worth more than that. And now you come back, I welcome you back and you dare act like a spoiled rotten kid and beat the one who kept a roof above your head for years. There's something wrong with you, I want you in jail, and I'm going to make sure you go there, that's where you belong, with the rest of society's trash,” the more he speaks, the angrier his tone gets and Brendon can't prevent the tears from running down the sides of his face.

“If I did it, then why don't I remember it? It doesn't make sense! And yes you kept a roof over my head but that's literally all you've ever done for me, you didn't even go to my graduation, it wasn't important enough for you. So yes I left, and I left a crappy badly written note, that's a fact I can't change the past, and if it made you feel unimportant then fine, because that's exactly how I felt when I stuck that note to the fridge.”

“I should have left you rotting in an orphanage where no one would have wanted you, I took care of you because you were a part of our family but I shouldn't have. Maybe you'd have understood what respect is if you would have stayed in a crappy building with hundreds of kids, all leaving with a family while you would have stayed there, unwanted, because nobody would have wanted to take care of a kid like you, nobody wants to adopt a kid who murdered his parents!”

“I-” Brendon's breathing speeds up, he can't see anything anymore as he slides along the wall he was leaning against, clutching his phone with the little force he has left, “I didn't murder my parents, why are you saying that?” he chokes out.

“That's what I first thought at the time, the police thought about it too at the beginning of the investigation, and now that I've witnessed the amount of violence there's in you, I'm starting to think that maybe after all, you did it.”

“Maybe I attacked you the other night, and it was one of the many stupid things I've done in my life, but I didn't kill my parents, and you don't have the right to believe such a thing,” his breath comes out jerkily in between every two words.

“You were pissed at them that night, you guys got into a fight and you took things out of their proportions, they couldn't calm you down, your mom called Mary to ask her for advices on how to calm you down. And out of nowhere, the next morning they were dead. I saw you in a similar state kid, and it's far from pretty.”

“I was pissed at them because we got into yet another fight about what kind of studies I should do, and my dad started belittling everything about me and mom didn't even defend me like she usually did. So I got mad out of my mind, but I didn't kill them, I wouldn't have killed them, I loved them, they were everything to me” he furiously wipes his tears away when someone knocks on the door energetically, “I need to go, there's someone at my door.”

“Kid, you should figure your shit out before another accident happens” Brochan says before hanging up, not letting any time for Brendon to say anything back.

He stands back up and go answer the door, he's met with two police officers, standing there, looking annoyed, either because it's their natural look or because Brendon took too long for their liking. Either way, they look rather intimidating, with their arms crossed and in their uniforms.

“Mr. Urie?” the chubby officer asks.

“Yes?”

“We have a few questions to ask you about the aggression that occurred in your uncle's café last Saturday.”

“Okay,” he steps aside and let the two officers enter his appartment, looking around curiously until they reach the couch on which they decide to sit without even asking Brendon if they could.

He doesn't say anything about it though and sits on the edge of his coffee table, feeling like a teenager getting a lecture from his parents, “what do you want to know?”

“Do you usually work on Saturdays?” the second officer asks, taking the lead of the interrogatory.

“No, it's my day off along with Wednesdays.”

“So why were you at the café on the day of the aggression then?”

“Because Brochan called me to help him with boxes that needed to be emptied while he took care of the paperwork, he didn't want to spend the entire night doing all that so he called his daughter but she didn't pick up so he called me instead” he tries to remain as calm as he can with two police officers scrutinizing him and taking notes.

“At what time did you arrive at the café?” the officer asks curiously.

“Around nine in the evening.”

“And Mr. Summers was there?” hearing Brochan being referred to as Mr. Summers makes this interrogatory even more formal than it already was, as if they were talking about someone distant and not Brendon's uncle.

“Yes, he was in the back of the café, doing paperwork.”

“So you emptied the boxes as asked?” Brendon nods slowly, “and what happened afterwards?”

“I left the café, Brochan was still sitting at the round table in the break room, finishing a few details, I went directly home and went to bed.”

“At what time did you leave?”

Brendon frowns, he doesn't remember at what time he left, he remembers watching the security cam with Aelyn though, but he can't remember the time, “late,” he says quietly.

“Late?” the officer repeats, raising an eyebrow.

“I didn't check the time I was exhausted, it must have been around, eleven probably.”

The officer hums and nods, taking notes on his small notebook before closing it and standing up, shortly followed by his colleague and Brendon, “we will reach out to you again soon.”

Brendon nods and shakes their hands before guiding them back to the door, waiting until they're in the stairs to close the door and let himself breathe normally again. It didn't go bad, he remained calmed, he didn't lie, he stayed coherent, there's still the security cam issue but he'll deal with it when time will come.

He doesn't have time to go back on the couch when someone knocks on the door again, he sighs and go open the door, frustrated by this day already, he's met with a very smiley Aelyn standing in the corridor. He instantly feels lighter and let her walk in.

“I passed by a couple of officers in the stairs, were they here for you?” Brendon simply nods, clearly not wanting to talk about it, Aelyn figures if something bad happened they'd have arrested Brendon so she drops it, “do you want to go lunch and play boardgames while drinking coconut water? That's my plan for today, along with Ryan's, we could call Riley as well, I haven't seen them in a while.”

“I could use some distraction right now,” he sighs and rubs his temples feeling the start of a headache settling.

“How do you feel?” she places her hand on Brendon's shoulder, “I didn't want to bring it up yesterday but you seemed,” she pauses, searching for the right word, “moved, all day long, and even more when you called me at night.”

“I'm fine, I'm recovering slowly from my mild breakdown from the other day and I had a bad dream, so I needed compagny to go back to sleep.”

“Okay, remember that you can talk to me, always, about anything.”

Brendon smiles and pulls Aelyn into a tight hug, “who would have thought you'd be the one keeping me afloat in a rough time,” he laughs softly.

“If there is a God above our heads then maybe him, but certainly not anyone else.”

 

***

 

“Okay, so it's very simple, there are a total of forty-five questions in the jar, each of us pick one and answer it, in case you don't want to answer a question you can give it to the player of your choice, got it?” Aelyn explains excitedly before taking a long sip of coconut water with her straw, everyone nods and sit more comfortably around the jar.

“Who goes first?” Riley asks timidly.

“Either the eldest or the youngest, it seems the most logical option because I do not like picking at random much.”

“Eldest then, Ryan, pick a paper,” Aelyn smiles, Ryan looking thoroughly annoyed.

He shoves his hand inside the transparent jar, mixing the papers for an atrociously long time before removing his hand, a tiny paper tucked between two of his fingers, “what is the worst piece of clothing someone can wear?” he puts the paper aside and think for a second, “running shoes, they are made for sports yet too many people wear them for regular activities, it is ridiculous.”

“True,” Aelyn nods, “Brendon, your turn.”

Brendon glances inside the jar and without preamble picks up the piece of paper that's on the top, “what is the saddest movie you've ever seen? Powder, without hesitation, it's just so heart-breaking, I watched it only once.”

“What's that movie?” Riley asks with a small voice.

“It's the story of an albino kid who's been locked up in a basement his entire life and one day he's found after an old woman has been found dead. He's forced to live normally but he has super powers such as telekinesis and the movie is all about him trying to fit in our world.”

“He doesn't ever fit in, right? That's why it's so sad?”

“Well, I wouldn't want to spoil it to you because it's a must-watch movie,” Riley nods biting their lower lip, curious to know what happens to the boy throughout the movie.

Everyone turns their attention towards Aelyn who's sitting there sipping her drink before perking up, “oh that's my turn, right, sorry,” she laughs softly and stand on her knees to pick one of the papers, “what is your favorite breakfast? Cereals,” she says excitedly, “there are so many different types, so many different tastes, it's the perfect breakfast.”

“How old are you again?” Ryan teases her.

“What? On the pretext that I'm in my twenties, I shouldn't enjoy the pleasure of eating cereals in the morning?”

“I eat some occasionally but I am not as enthusiastic about cereals as you are, and only kids are that enthusiastic about them, in my opinion.”

“Says the guy who's knitting when he's bored, only old people are enthusiastic about knitting, yet here you are, not even thirty yet and already knitting.”

“Knitting has nothing to do with age, it is about creativity, and the sense of peace you get from it.”

“And why is my enthusiasm for cereals related to age, if knitting isn't?”

Riley and Brendon glance at one another and roll their eyes at their friends' little childish argument, “knitting is an activity,” Ryan goes on, “therefore it is different.”

“Your logic is the weirdest, most messed up one I've ever seen.”

“Uhm, I think it's Riley's turn to pick a question,” Brendon says before Ryan has the time to say anything in return, “so we should go on with the game and let h-them pick.”

Both turn towards Brendon then look at one another and nod slowly, Riley cautiously picks a piece of paper and open it slowly, cheeks reddening, “if you could dis-invent one thing, what would it be? Uhm,” they pauses for a second biting on their lip, “guns, they're never used positively anyway.”

“True, I mean, it can be used in a positive way but it's bittersweet at the same time, because it's positive in some way but terrible in another,” Aelyn shrugs and sips more coconut water.

“There are much more ways to right the wrong than using a gun, so it is only used when driven by negativity, despite what the person using it has to say to justify their act.”

Riley nods sitting straighter, “without guns wars would be fewer, and the world a more peaceful place, at least, that's what I think.”

“I agree with you,” Brendon tells them, a small smile on his lips, making Riley blush even more than they already were.

“Second turn,” Ryan announces taking a piece of paper from the bottom of the jar, “if you were on a professional sports team, what number would you wear on your uniform?” he sighs, “number five, because when I was watching sports on TV with my dad, his favorite players were always number five for some reason, so I would be number five.”

“That's cute,” Aelyn leans over to press a soft kiss on Ryan's cheek.

Brendon once again takes the piece of paper that's on the very top, “what is the biggest inconvenience about the place you are currently living in? Well, it barely has any furniture, and I love places with a lot of furniture and decorations it's more welcoming that way, less prison cell-like.”

“Sometimes too many furnitures make it feel suffocating, so maybe it's better that way, at least that's what I think,” Riley speaks up quietly.

“I agree, but at the same time it lessens the feeling of loneliness, in some way.”

Riley nods and fiddles with the thread of their jeans, Brendon places his hand on the top of Riley's attempting to make them more comfortable, but resulting in them looking redder than a tomato.

Aelyn excitedly picks up a piece of paper and sits back down with her legs crossed, “what is one thing you always wanted as a kid but never got? A younger sibling, I've always been the baby of the family and wanted to have someone younger and close to my age, to play with and all. But instead I got an annoying cousin living in my house,” she jokes, glancing at Brendon, who smiles brightly and stick his tongue out.

“Wasn't it a pleasure to see me walking around the house every day? Gracing your house with my presence at all times?”

“No it certainly wasn't, it was a pain in the ass more than anything else.”

Brendon fakes a gasp, “you're so cruel with me.”

“Cool? Yes I know,” she laughs when Brendon narrows his eyes at her.

“Anyway,” Brendon turns to Riley, smiling softly, “Riley, it's your turn.”

They glance inside the jar for a second, selecting a paper with their eyes rather than with their hands and pick one on the far right, “what is your favorite time of the day?” they pause, “early in the morning, when the world isn't awake yet, everything is peaceful and calm, I love it.”

“It suits you well,” Aelyn points out, “you're calm all the time, so it makes sense that you love the early morning for that reason. You're the impersonation of the early morning.”

Riley looks down at their joined legs and let themselves smile a small smile, “thank you,” they mumble shyly, “that's really sweet.”

“Anytime,” she moves closer to Riley, on all four and wrap her arms tightly around them, leaving a soft kiss on their very red cheek, “I love making you smile, my dear.”

Ryan and Brendon lean on the side to look in one another's direction and raise an eyebrow in confusion at the same time, while Aelyn hugs Riley a moment longer before going back to where she was sitting a minute prior.

“Third turn or we play at something else?” Aelyn asks enthusiastically.

“Third, I'm curious to know what questions we're going to get,” Brendon glances at the two persons sitting next to him and wait for them to voice their opinions.

Ryan sighs and pick a piece of paper from the jar, “what do you consider the worst household chore? Vaccuming because I hate the noise it makes.”

Brendon smiles and looks at Aelyn, “it only makes noise when you plug it in.”

“Oh shut up would you? It happens to the best of us okay,” she pouts and rest her elbow on her knee, “now pick a question.”

He laughs and pat her head like he would with a puppy, “it makes a good memory, and it gives me material to tease you for the next few years so it's great,” he takes the piece of paper from the very top and read, “what is your favorite breed of dog?” he pauses and glances at Aelyn who's still pouting like a child, “coton de tulear.”

His answer makes Aelyn sit up straighter and smile brightly, the brightest smile Brendon has ever seen on her face and it says a lot considering she's always smiling, under any circumstances. He smiles back trying to match the brightness of Aelyn's, leaving Ryan and Riley in pure confusion.

The next person to pick a question is Aelyn and when she picks one, she's still smiling the way she was a minute ago, “if you invented a perfume what would you call it?” her answer is instantaneous, “Petrichor, in all caps probably.”

“Why?” Ryan asks.

“Because it's partly why there is this special smell after rain, and that's my favorite smell in the entire world.”

“I approve of that name, it is original and it is a good idea.”

“I always have good ideas,” she turns her attention to Riley, “your turn.”

They sigh and pick a piece of paper, unfolding it slowly, “if you could be a character in any novel, who would you be? Well, I don't read much so,” Ryan's gasp sounds dramatic in the silent appartment, “I don't have a specific character, but I'd say a protagonist in a coming of age novel.”

“You do not read?” Ryan says, staring at them in shock, as if they said they once hid a body.

“Well, I-uhm I have the attention span of a child so when I read, by the time I finish a page I don't remember what happened in there.”

“But how? Books are fascinating, when they are well-written it captures your attention from beginning to end, you feel invested in the characters' lives you want to know every detail and know what will happen next. You can not just,” he pauses, frowning, “read without really reading.”

“Ry, we all know you love books more than life but some people don't, so get over it. They didn't say anything shocking.”

“But-”

“Shh,” she puts her hand over Ryan's mouth, “I know it shocks you, but leave them alone with that, they're already nervous enough as it is, they don't need you overreacting over a tiny detail.”

Riley waves shyly, “I'm still here you know.”

“I know, sorry, I know it's annoying when people talk about you in the third person when you're right there, next to them.”

“It's okay.”

Ryan pushes Aelyn's off of his mouth and say, “I am sorry for my behavior, I just do not understand how someone can live their life without read-” Aelyn elbows him in the ribs, “I am sorry.”

“It's okay, don't worry.”

“We should find another game to play now, something exciting!” Aelyn exclaims, changing the subject entirely.

“You'll have to go on without me because I have an appointment in an hour and I need to leave now if I don't want to be late,” Riley says, standing up and smoothing down their clothes.

“Oh,” Aelyn sighs, standing up as well, followed by Brendon and Ryan, “we'll see each other soon,” she says holding Riley's shoulders firmly before pulling them into a tight hug.

The boys' goodbyes are more paced, a small pat on the shoulder as they walk out the door.

Once Riley's gone, they all return to their seat, Aelyn resting her head on Ryan's lap, softly poking at the underside of his chin.

“Should we find another game to play? Or should we watch movies for the rest of the afternoon?” Ryan asks his guests while running his fingers through Aelyn's hair.

“We should cook, cookies or something like that,” Aelyn suggests, oddly calm.

“As long as we do not burn my kitchen, I am perfectly fine with this suggestion.”

“Well, I can't promise you anything because none of us know how to cook,” Brendon laughs softly, making both Aelyn and Ryan smile.

Ryan gently pushes Aelyn's head away and stand up, “I have got to make sure I have every ingredient we might need to bake cookies, otherwise we will need to go to the grocery store, I will be right back.”

Once Ryan's out of sight, Aelyn moves closer to Brendon, who's deeply into his thoughts, “hey,” she says softly, as if she worried she would scare Brendon if she would talk in any other way, “do you feel better now?”

He nods, “yes, much better, it's always nice to be with people you like instead of being by yourself stuck with everything that's going on in your head.”

“I'm glad you're feeling better, I hate seeing you like that.”

“There used to be a time where you would have done anything in your power to make me feel like that,” he points out.

“It was much more complicated than that, but I must admit I would have enjoyed seeing you hurt quite a lot,” she takes a hold of Brendon's arm and hold it tightly, “but not full breakdown, even at the time I would have felt bad for you.”

“Oh, you mean you had a heart?” he fakes shock.

She let go of his arm and punch him playfully, “of course I had a heart, more than you think,” she sighs and rests her head on Brendon's shoulder, “you know, I didn't hate you at the time, despite what my behavior lead every one including you to believe, I-”

She gets cuts off by Ryan coming back from the kitchen, rubbing his temples, “well, I guess we do have to go to the grocery store, there is no flour in the cupboards, and I obviously do not have chocolate chips either.”

Aelyn lifts her head from where it was settled on Brendon's shoulder and stand up rather quickly, startling her cousin a little bit, “let's go to the grocery store!” she says excitedly.

 

***

 

“Oh please tell me we can buy this,” Aelyn pleads with a bright smile, holding up a large set of food coloring, “please, please, please.”

“Why would you even want to buy these?” Ryan rolls his eyes, not even looking up from the pack of flour he's holding in his hands.

“To make rainbow cookies, like a red one, an orange one, a yellow one, a-”

“Okay we got it, but no we will not buy these because it is chemical and disgusting.”

“But rainbow cookies, rainbow coo-”

Ryan sighs and turn to Brendon, “Bren? Do you want to eat rainbow cookies?”

“I don't really care which color they are, we can take the food coloring and if you don't want to use some for the cookies you'll eat, then you won't,” Brendon shrugs, completely indifferent.

“At this very moment, I am feeling betrayed, but fine, you can take them Aelyn but do not put these anywhere near my dough or you will regret it.”

“Okay so, now we've got everything we needed, we can go back home,” Aelyn and Ryan starts to walk towards the cashier but Brendon stays behind, not taking a single step forward.

They turn around and see Brendon whispering to himself, nodding slowly, they look at each other in confusion when it clicks in Aelyn's mind, Brendon talking to himself, his muscles seeming tense even from this distance. She sighs and walk back up to Brendon, shortly followed by a very confused Ryan.

“Maybe we can buy another whisk since you don't want to have colorful cookies, also we should buy whole milk in order to have something decent to drink with our cookies,” Aelyn suggests.

“But I already have milk at home,” Ryan retorts.

“I doubt you have whole milk, you always buy skimmed milk because it's cheaper.”

“Fine,” he sighs, “I will go pick a whisk, you pick the milk. And for your information, skimmed milk is, in fact, cheaper, and it is just as delicious.”

“Thanks,” Brendon says calmly once Ryan turns at the corner of the aisle.

“No need to thank me, I didn't notice we had three items.”

“No one normal notices, it's okay,” he says, fiddling with his pack of chocolate chips.

“Who cares about being normal anyway? Plus normality is subjective,” she pokes his arm to get his attention and smiles at him, “we all have our own little quirks, I tend to be childish, Ryan talks like a fancy character in a XIXth novel, Riley blushes everytime you look at them, Woolridge uses metaphors in every sentence and Devonne laughs at random words. And you know what? It's perfectly fine, it's our own normality.”

“Those are cute quirks, you can't say the same about mine.”

“The cuteness of those quirks are subjective as well, I annoy people most of the time, Ryan appears to be snob, Riley weird, Woolridge seems high to more people than you'd think and Devonne is seen as stupid,” she lists, “don't think about it too much.”

“You're right, I have other things to deal with right now.”

“Exactly, but today is fun day,” her smile brightens when she spots Ryan coming back from the end of the aisle, a whisk in his hand, pride in his steps.

“You were supposed to take the milk,” Ryan rolls his eyes and grab a milk box, “but even that is too much to ask from you apparently.”

Aelyn's smile falters for a second, “we talked and didn't expect you to come back this fast, why are you pissed?”

“I am not angry, now can we go pay for our items so that we can go cook your awfully colored cookies?” he steps away, the flour, milk and whisk in his hands.

Aelyn sighs and gives the food coloring to Brendon, “go with him, I'll wait for you in the car.”

“What? Why?”

“Trust me,” is all she says before leaving the grocery store, not without a smile for the cashier.

Brendon, however confused, catches up to Ryan, putting down the items on the counter, they pay for everything and take the bags, leaving the store in silence.

“It's nice, today, I mean, it's good to spend time outside of my head,” he glances at Ryan, “it's good to spend time with you.”

“We have not seen one another in a little while, it is indeed quite good to get to spend time with you,” he smiles softly and walks closer to Brendon until they reach the car, where Aelyn's sitting on the backseat singing along to a song on the radio.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, I've been my own beta so if you notice any grammatical or syntax mistakes let me know and forgive me for it.
> 
> This chapter is a little bit longer than the previous ones despite not having much action besides the beginning, it shows a little more of the characters' personalities through their behaviors and I think it was necessary to let you have a little glimpse, even if it's subtle and you might not pick up on it now, it'll make sense in the near future.
> 
> Also, allow me a tiny moment of self-promotion. I started something I call "Tuesday Tunes" on tumblr last month, which consists of me posting my original songs along with covers (on request) exclusively on Tuesdays. A new one will certainly arrive next Tuesday so I thought it was a good time to promote myself now. You can check it out [right here](http://suicidepact.co.vu/tagged/tuesday-tunes) it would mean the world to me if you would give a listen to my work and maybe let me know what you think about it.


	13. Chapter 13

The loud buzzing sound echoes in the silent apartment, tearing Brendon out of his peaceful slumber, he opens an eye and look around, looking for his phone. Ryan is still asleep in his bed, snoring lightly, Aelyn's certainly still sleeping on the couch, Brendon would rather go back to sleep than be the only one awake. It feels like being the first up when you've been invited to a sleepover, you stay bored out of your mind, until someone finally wakes up.

He finally locates his phone and discreetly go into the bathroom before picking up, the number isn't familiar to him but he figures he'll find out who is calling him this early in the morning, so he might as well pick up. “Hello?” he tries to keep quiet but still seem normal at the same time.

“Mr. Urie? Officer Chavez, we would like to ask a couple of questions about your uncle's aggression, could you come to the police station as soon as possible?”

They already came to his apartment yesterday, he answered their questions, why would they need to ask some more? When he speaks again, his voice is shaky, “sure, no problem, I'll be there in half an hour.”

“Thank you. I will see you later,” the officer hangs up before Brendon has the time to say anything.

He sighs and checks himself in the mirror, he doesn't look too bad, considering he spent the night sleeping on the floor of Ryan's bedroom. He fixes his hair, stares at his reflection for a moment, and leaves the bathroom quietly.

Ryan's not in his bed anymore, the bedroom door now ajar, Aelyn's still a sleep when he passes by the couch on his way out, stopped by a quiet cough. He turns to find Ryan sitting at the kitchen table, a mug in his hands, “where are you going this early in the morning?”

“Somewhere I really need to go right now.”

Ryan sighs and nods, “you do not want to tell me, it is fine, I am sure you will tell Aelyn so at least you will confide in someone.”

“Is there something wrong? I mean, you were already weird yesterday.”

“Maybe because it felt as if it would have been much better for you if I would not have been here and you would have stayed alone with Aelyn instead,” Ryan never talks that fast, he always seems to be taking his time talking, as if every word mattered.

Brendon can't help but laugh, which earn him a glare from Ryan, “are you seriously jealous of Aelyn?”

“I am not jealous, all I am saying is that the second I left you two together when I came back I felt out of place, and I do not like that feeling, by any means.”

“She's my cousin, it might not have always been the case but I can talk to her about a lot of things now, you can't get upset because I tell her things I don't talk to you about, and you can't get upset about her and I being close. I don't see what you want me to say right now.”

“I just want you to trust me, to know you can talk to me about literally anything without being judged or be made fun of or be betrayed. I am glad you trust Aelyn and got to construct a strong bond with her, she is an amazing person, the best I know, it is just that, I know nothing about you. You will not even tell me where you are going and it is a minor thing, so I know I should not be upset about it, but if you do not trust me about minor things you will not do it with more important things.”

“Why is it that important for you that I trust you? You give me time to open up then you get upset about tiny details and try to make me feel bad?” Brendon sighs, he didn't plan to have Ryan be a drama queen.

“I am not trying to make you feel bad, I know you need time, and I am willing to give you all the time in the world, it is just that you trust Aelyn in the way I want you to trust me, and I must admit it stings a little bit,” he looks down inside his mug, and tap his fingers on the table.

“Ryan,” he sighs and takes a seat besides Ryan, “just because Aelyn and I are close doesn't mean you and I aren't, we just are in a different way, I love spending time with you, and I'd love to open up to you, but it's not as easy as it could seem,” he leans over and press a soft kiss on Ryan's cheek, “just a little more time.”

Ryan nods and glances at Brendon, a soft smile slowly forming on his lips, “do you not have somewhere to go?”

“Yes, right, the officers want to ask me a couple of questions about the whole situation with Brochan, it probably won't take too long.”

And just like that Ryan's smile grew bigger, “you told me where you are going,” he pats on Brendon's hand, “I hope it goes well there, actually, I am sure it will.”

“Thank you,” he kisses Ryan's cheek again before standing up.

 

***

 

Thirty-four minutes have passed since Brendon arrived at the police station and let the woman at the main desk know he was here to see Officer Chavez. She told him to take a seat and wait, which is exactly what he has been doing this entire time.

The chair he's sat on is rather uncomfortable, a bit like sitting on a bunch of tacks, but the person sitting two chairs away from him doesn't seem to feel the same way, judged by the way they look.

He was already nervous out of his mind when he entered the station, but waiting here, alone with his mind doesn't help to calm him down even remotely. He stares at the clock for a moment, and he's certain the hand goes backwards at some point.

After exactly, fourty-seven minutes, he hears his name being called and stands up to follow the officer in his office, not without apprehension. Officer Chavez gestures towards the chair in front of his desk, telling Brendon to take a seat, calmly, as if they both weren't here for something much more serious than an ordinary conversation.

“Mr. Urie, I'm glad you came this quickly, we have checked the security camera in the café after Mr. Summers gave us the information that there was one there,” Officer Chavez says, leaning against the back of his chair, “we have come to find out that you were the only person besides Mr. Summers to be present there on the night of the agression. Do you know what it implies?”

“That you think I attacked my uncle that night,” he says with a small voice, scared of what could happened next.

“Yes, but we have to build a solid case file in order to present it to the judge to get the trial to start, which means in the meantime we don't have the right to keep you here, but I will ask you not to leave the state until the trial starts, am I clear?” his tone is still casual, as if he was talking about the wheather and not the possibility of Brendon going in prison for up to ten years.

“I won't leave the state, I promise.”

“Fine, I suggest you find a lawyer before the case file is done, otherwise we will find you a court-appointed lawyer. You are free to go for now,” he stands up, shortly followed by Brendon, they shake hands and the officer walks Brendon out of his office.

Court, Brendon is going to court, he's going to have to go through a trial, he doesn't know any lawyer, unlike Brochan, he's going to lose and he'll go to jail for the next decade, he'll be almost fourty years old when he will get out. He was certain he didn't attack Brochan, he remembers going back home and directly to bed, not vividly, but still he's sure that's what he did that night. But the police doesn't care about what he thinks he has done, nor will the judge, they care about evidences, and both the victim and the security cam prove he's guilty.

It doesn't make sense, if he had done it, he would remember, or at least not remember doing something else entirely, maybe he's the newest victim of one of these tv shows with candid cameras, but if it were the case, it would certainly not funny, at all.

His mind wanders to what Brochan has told him the day before, about his parents' death, he knows he didn't kill them, yes he was pissed that night and went through a mild breakdown but he would have never touched his parents. But what if he did it after all and just don't remember it? Maybe his mind is playing tricks on him again, and he thinks it went a certain way when it is not the case.

No, no, he wouldn't have hurt his parents, in any way, and certainly not like that. He didn't calm down that night, his mother had told him to go to bed and that they'd talk about it in the morning when everyone would be less exhausted and infuriated. He yelled a bit more about how his parents didn't ever listen to him anyway and slammed the door shut, getting out only in the morning.

Once he had calmed down and went to bed, he had heard his mother cry in the corridor, saying she wanted to be the best mom for him but apparently she had failed at this task, his father was besides her saying it wasn't her fault but Brendon's. He had told her she was a good mom, even though she treated her son a bit too much like a baby, it was just that Brendon needed to be more grateful and respectful towards them. For once, Brendon had agreed with his father.

His parents never really took time to get to know what Brendon wanted in life, what were his dreams and his aspirations, they only wanted him to do what they wanted for him, what would have had made them look like a perfect family, a role model for other families around the town. Every time he mentionned something he wanted to do, they kept telling him it was not a serious choice, it wasn't secure.

His mom wanted him to have a wealthy and happy life. His father just wanted to brag about how good his son's position in society was.

They both loved him in their own ways, and Brendon loved them back in his own, he just never told them because he wasn't an emotionally expressive child, and when you're a teenager it feels weird to you to tell your parents you love them. However, once they're gone, you'd give everything you have to be able to tell them, even if it'd be awkward.

His mom would cry and pull him into one of her magical tight hugs that fix everything and tell him how much she loves her beautiful baby boy. His dad would awkwardly pat him on the back and mumble that he loves him too.

The annoying honk of the fancy car behind him forces him to get out of his head, he glances in the rearview mirror and see a middle aged man waving his hands in the air, clearly pissed about something. Brendon decides it's safer to park on the side and let the angry man pass before going back on the road, getting into a car crash is the last thing he needs right now, or maybe would it be the perfect thing, he doesn't really know.

Soon enough, he finds himself parking in front of Ryan's building, except he doesn't get out of the car once he turns it off. He just sits there, staring at a family up the street, getting out of a store, how convenient it is that a couple with a little boy happen to be in his sight at this moment. After spending a good hour remininscing his own parents. Life can be a bitter joke sometimes.

The family walks down the street, approaching Brendon's car, the parents holding their son's hands, his parents never did that, certainly not in public. Public display of affection wasn't something his parents were cautionning, especially his father, he wanted to appear as a strong figure of authority. Holding his son's hand in the middle of the street wouldn't have allowed it. His mother made up for it when they were at home, having soft gestures for him every time she passed by him.

When he entered middle school, he sometimes snapped at her when she combed her fingers through his hair while he was doing his homework, and every time she sighed, kissed the top of his head and walked away. He wasn't doing it in a mean way, he just wanted to be a grown up, a man, and getting affection from his mom in such a way made him feel like he was six. He'd do anything to feel like he's six again, with his mom holding his shoulders and being noisy, asking what he's doing.

He laughs by himself and shakes his head, it's stupid, to remininsce memories of people who are gone, it just hurts, he'll never live those things again, never again, so what is the point of torturing his mind with all of this?

He sighs and gets out of his car, making sure to lock it before entering Ryan's building, the air is cooler than outside, which reminds Brendon he should have taken a coat and not a hoodie. When he reaches apartment 89 he hesitates for a moment, he doesn't know if he should knock, or ring the bell, or just get in without doing any.

He decides to knock and enter right away, Aelyn is there, on the couch, watching kids cartoons with a bowl of cereals in her hands, he smiles and awkwardly stands in the doorway watching her. A cough startles him and gets his entire attention, Ryan's standing in the kitchen, an eyebrow raised, Brendon walks towards him and press himself against his chest, his arms tightly wrapped around his friend's waist.

Ryan, however surprised, holds Brendon tightly and kisses the top of his head, “how did it go?” he asks in a soft tone.

“Better than I imagined when I was waiting there, but still bad nonetheless.”

“You want to talk about it?” Ryan asks keeping his grip on Brendon firm, a phone ring resonates in the apartment causing both of the men to jump but they relax again once Aelyn goes in another room to pick up.

“Maybe a bit later, I need to calm my brain down.”

Ryan nods slowly, “okay,” he pauses, “I need to go to work for a few hours today, can I expect you to be here when I will be back?”

“Would you want me here?” Brendon asks rather shyly, looking up at Ryan from where his head is resting high on his chest.

“Of course,” he leans down and stops just as he's about to kiss Brendon's lips, instead he rubs his nose along the bridge of the younger man's, “I want you here.”

“I'll be here then,” Brendon whispers staring at Ryan despite the angle and the proximity being awkward.

“I need to get going, or else my boss is going to kill me,” he pulls away smoothing down his clothes, “I will see you later then,” he smiles smally and a second later he's out the door, on his way to the publishing house.

Brendon lets himself breathe out, he doesn't know what to think anymore, Ryan seems to like him a lot, enough to want Brendon to talk to him about his life and feelings, but at the same time there is this distance between them. Maybe it is because of the whole case with Brochan, but they got closer after it happened so it doesn't make sense. What if Ryan has second thoughts about him and doesn't want to get closer to him anymore?

Maybe it's the Spencer secret that puts distance between them, Ryan doesn't know anything about Spencer or his relationship with Brendon, he only knows his name. It might be the reason for it, it might the reason why Ryan looks like he's walking on eggshells around him. He used to take initiatives, he lead the way, and now he seems cautious, unsure of what to do.

Or maybe he does that on purpose to push Brendon to re-think about his feelings towards Ryan, which would be successful because Ryan's behavior made Brendon realize he really do want to get closer to Ryan, in the most cliché way, he wants to kiss him and watch the television nestled in his arms, and wake up in the morning to find a snoring Ryan by his side. He realized that, or he already knew but didn't want to admit it.

Spencer wouldn't be mad at him, at least he hopes so. Wherever he is now, whatever happens after death, Brendon hopes Spencer knows that yes he lets his heart welcome another man, but that the man in question will never take Spencer's place. Spencer has been the first true love Brendon has had, and you never forget your first love, no one could ever be what your first love has been to you.

Brendon's teared out of his thoughts by the sound of Aelyn coming back out of Ryan's bedroom, her phone in her hand. She looks distraught, looking everywhere and nowhere at all at the same time, she throws her phone on the couch and sighs loudly. Brendon clears his throat, causing his cousin to jump in surprise, he expects her to calm back down but instead she looks tensed.

“Is something wrong?” he asks shyly.

“My father,” she says as if it explains anything, but Brendon keeps staring at her, waiting for her to go on, so she does, “I was on the phone with him a minute ago, he called me to tell me he's out of the hospital, and even though he doesn't want me back at home, at all, not even for a minute, he wanted to talk to me.”

“It's a good beginning, he takes a step towards you.”

She laughs emptily, “yeah, but at what cost,” she inhales deeply and take a few steps towards Brendon, “Bren, I need to talk to you about something, and I want you to be completely honest with me, no matter what you think honesty might cause, okay?”

Brendon frowns in confusion, but nods anyway, curious about what Aelyn wants to talk to him about.

“He told me about his thoughts on your parents' death, he probably just want to get me to put distance between you and I because he's still bitter about the agression, understandably, but still. I don't know what to think of it.”

“I don't know why he told you something like that but it's a lie!” Brendon's voice raises catching Aelyn off-guard, making her take a step backwards.

“You didn't remember beating him up, still don't, and you have to admit it is a bit questioning that everywhere you go chaos follows you and the worst happens to the ones you love the most. I'm not saying you did what my father told me, I'm just-”

“You just what?” he breathes out and runs his fingers through his hair trying not to breakdown, it's clearly not the right moment, “God, you really think I killed my own parents? I loved them more than anyone on this earth, I would have never done that, how can you think I did such a thing?”

“Like I said, I'm not saying I believe him, but the police suspected you as well at the time it happened and-”

“What? The police is almighty? As if there weren't hundreds of innocents on death row, but yes they sure know everything, and if you'd listen to what you're told you'd know that the police dropped it and searched the culprit somewhere else.”

“Brendon,” she sighs, “you would have been incapable to do that, especially not to your mother, but just because I don't believe you could have done it, doesn't mean it isn't a possibility that you might have done it. And Spencer, he got murdered too, and you arrived here right after.”

“Oh so now I killed my ex-boyfriend? Great! Awesome!” he takes a few deep breaths to try and calm down but it doesn't work and desperation fills him up, “I did beat Brochan, all evidences are against me so I can accept that my mind messed up and I can't remember doing it, but I didn't kill my parents, nor Spencer, I did not! Aelyn you've got to believe me!” he grips her by her arms, tighter than necessary and shake her once but harshly.

“Brendon, calm down, you're hurting me right now,” her strained voice is enough to make Brendon let her go and take a few steps back.

“I- I- I didn't mean to, I- oh my God,” he whispers, eyes wide and teary.

“Bren, you really need to calm down,” she holds her hand out in Brendon's direction but he steps away before her hand reaches him.

“I-it's gonna bruise, I hurt you, you think I'm a monster who killed his parents, and you're right, I'm a monster, I- I'm sorry,” he feels like he could puke anytime now, or faint, he doesn't really know.

Without another word he turns around and leaves the apartment, running down the stairs as his throat tightens, threatening to suffocate him. His vision is blurry as he climbs inside his car and drives away as fast as he can, the drive home is too short to his liking, but still, he gets out of the car and climbs the stairs to his apartment.

He doesn't know what to do, the one person who was here to support him despite what he has clearly done, thinks he committed the worst act possible, and now she had the proof he is messed up in the head. He hurt her, she didn't believe him and he hurt her, he didn't control what he was doing, it was impulsive, all he could think of was that Aelyn believed her father.

He hurt her...

Soon enough, he find himself messily shoving his belongings in two boxes, and carries them out of his apartment. He passes by Aelyn's door, he'll miss hearing her music through the walls in the morning, or simply hear her unlock her door as she comes back from wherever she had to go.

He put the boxes in his trunk and sits back in his car, where he was a few minutes earlier, he starts the car and get on the road, looking forward, vision still blurry, he drives away and doesn't stop, he's not quite sure where he's going, but it's better for everyone if he leaves Las Vegas.

And here he is, on the road, driving away for the third time in his life.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I planned to post this chapter a little sooner but I had to verify my use of past tenses many times to make sure they were correct (and I hope they are) and I tend to wait for the following chapter to be done before I post a new one. I finished the next chapter yesterday so this one can be posted. 
> 
> This chapter is a turning point in the story and I'm excited for what's coming next. Tell me what you think of Brendon leaving Las Vegas and where you think he's going (hint: Aelyn wanted to go there). 
> 
> I hope you still enjoy reading this story because I still enjoy writing it just as much as I did when I started it.


	14. Chapter 14

STATELINE, NEVADA

 

When he drove away from Las Vegas, he didn't know where to go, nothing was waiting for him outside the city, nothing and no one. He kept driving for an hour when he noticed the road being familiar, that's when he decided to go there, despite not having been there for what seemed to be forever.

The last time he came here, everything was fine, his parents were alive and well, he had most of his life ahead of him, he wasn't an orphan with a messed up mind and a decade in prison waiting for him. He would even put up with his aunts and uncles, and with Aelyn's behavior, if it meant he could go back to that time where everything was easier, or at least seemed to be.

When he steps inside the cabin, the scent is the same, the furnitures are the same, there is just a bit of dust that has been gathered on every surface. No one came here to celebrate the events of the end of the year after Brendon's parents died, and to be completely honest, Brendon wouldn't have wanted them to keep coming here without his parents. It would have been wrong.

However, it still hurts to see this place being abandoned when it contains so many good memories, after spending a crazy amount of happy moments in here, you would expect to feel lighter when you enter this place, but no, it doesn't happen. All Brendon can feel when he steps inside is pain and sadness and regret, and this underlying feeling that everything is falling apart and he can't do anything against it.

He sighs and go get the material necessary to clean the cabin, it's spacious, so it'll take a long time to clean everything, but then again, he doesn't have anything better to do, in the middle of nowhere by himself. First things first, he starts with the kitchen, it's the most important to be able to eat before anything else.

 

***

 

It's almost midnight when he finally start to clean the last bedroom, he carefully kept this one for the end since it was his parents', every couple had their own bedroom, the kids, on the other hand all slept in the same bedroom, which was too cramped for five kids to sleep in. It lead to wild nights, especially since they didn't all fit in the same bed so they had to choose who would sleep on the floor and it inevitably caused arguments, particularly between Brendon and Aelyn.

He starts by taking off the bedsheets, throwing it in the corridor on the large pile of laundry he gathered from the four other rooms. He then plug the vaccumer and smile fondly at the memory of Aelyn vaccuming the café, or at least that's what she thought.

When you start cleaning it's rather easy to turn it into a game to make it more fun, you sing, dance, and act silly to turn this chore into something more pleasing, but when it's been more than six hours already, nothing can make it more pleasing.

He takes a few steps backwards and hit the closet, causing the fall of what seems to be a large leather-covered book, spreading dust around it as it hits the ground loudly. Brendon drops the vaccumer, knowing exactly what this is, he wipes the dust away, and place it on the newly clean nightstand, before picking up the vaccumer and going back to cleaning.

 

***

 

The clock reads one when he's finally done cleaning every room of the cabin, everything looks as good as it ever did, it's almost as if nothing has ever changed, as if time didn't pass at all since the last time he came here to spend Christmas and New Years eve when he was still a kid.

He takes a seat on the couch in the living room, a glass of wine in hand and the book from earlier, he didn't know there would still be wine in this place after so long, maybe he'll get sick because of it but that's okay, he doesn't really care.

He opens the book and automatically smiles, even though his vision blurs a little at the sight of the first picture, his mother is sitting on the armchair next to the fireplace, a tiny boy cradled against her. He was too small to remember, but he looks at peace, and his mom is glowing, smiling brightly like she always did, a bit like Aelyn does now, his mom had this incredible power to light up the whole room just by smiling. He'd do anything to see her smile like that again.

As far as he remembers, the photo album has always been here, it was his mom's idea, she loved taking pictures all the time, she said it was the only way to capture a moment to be able to remember it happened when we get old. Each family had their own, the others might have taken theirs back to their houses, only Brendon's parents' is still here.

On the next page, is a picture where Brendon is happily eating a cookie while Aelyn is pouting, arms crossed, it must have been the last cookie and Aelyn wanted it, so he ate it to piss her off and it worked. He did this all the time.

He laughs softly when he sees an out of focus picture of his mom looking into a cooking book in confusion, scratching the top of her head. He doesn't remember much from his early childhood, but he remembers being the one taking that picture, his mom got mad that he took her camera, especially since he was a clumsy kid and the camera was pricey. Still, she kept the picture because it made her laugh once her anger died down and she was back to her sweet normal self.

The next picture, is a rare one where Brendon is holding a baby who's poking at his chin, for a second he thinks about showing it to Aelyn, as a proof there was an underlying affection between them ever since forever, but then he remembers he can't, which is why he ended up here. He sighs and stares at the picture for a little while, his mom never put the pictures in a chronological order, even though she kept the dates neatly written at the back of each one. She wanted them to look aesthetically similar, in terms of colors and scenery and atmosphere, it was proper to his mother and he never understood why she classified them that way.

His phone buzzes in his pocket, it buzzed a countless amount of time since he arrived here but he ignored it, at least until now, because he was busy cleaning up the cabin and it was a lot of work so it was rather easy to keep his mind off of the buzzing feeling in his pocket. He checks his missing calls and see that both Aelyn and Ryan tried to call him, even Devonne called him at some point and they don't talk much.

After what he's done, Aelyn still wants to talk to him and Ryan apparently does too, but maybe they just want to tell him how much of a messed up human being he is, and how they don't want to hear from him ever again. He has five messages, and maybe he shouldn't listen to them, it probably makes him a little bit of a masochist to hit the listen button but he has nothing left to lose anyway, and if they hate him, he'll know, and he'll have one more reason to hate himself.

If only he wasn't such a coward, he'd end it all and stop this self-loathing forever.

The first message has been left at precisely 5:57pm and it's from Aelyn, “ _Brendon I don't know where you went but please call me back or at least text me, you kind of scared me earlier and I want to make sure everything's fine.”_

The second one is also from Aelyn, left half an hour later, “ _Uhm, I, I went to your apartment and your belongings are gone, it's like you never actually lived here so please please please tell me you're fine, call me back when you get this message.”_

The third one is from Ryan, “ _Aelyn told me what happened, she is worried about you, please give news to at least one of us so we can stop worrying so much about you, or do not tell us anything but come back.”_

The fourth message is from Aelyn again and her voice sounds much more strained than in the previous ones, as if she had been crying for a while, “ _Brendon you better call me back as soon as possible, you're probably scared, but it's not a reason to be a freaking asshole and let me worry about you. The world always have to revolve around you huh?”_ there's a pause, long enough to let Brendon think the message is over, but then she speaks again, more quietly, “ _you can't abandon me again.”_

Brendon has to bite back his tears as the fifth message starts, “ _we really are worrying about you babe, you can not keep ignoring us like you do, it is not fair, for any of us, even just a text would be fine, but I am begging you, tell us you are okay.”_

He let his phone fall beside him on the couch and allows himself to cry, whether he's in Las Vegas with them, or here far away, he hurts the ones he loves with all his heart, something's obviously wrong with him. Brochan was right when he said he was messed up in the head, it's not logical to hurt the ones you love, it'd make more sense to try to hurt people you hate instead.

Statistically, crimes are predominantly driven by love, there is more chance for you to hurt the ones you love than hurt the ones you hate, mostly because if you love someone they have more power over you. They have all the cards in their hands, they can make you happy or destroy your soul and drive you insane over the idea of losing them or of them not loving you as much as you love them.

Today has been a rough day and Brendon really needs to get some sleep if he doesn't want to die of exhaustion, not that he would mind it, in all honesty, but today is not the day he will leave this world, it would be quite shitty to die on a November 14th, anyway.

 

***

 

The thing he missed the most about this place is the woods near the family's cabin. When he was a toddler he used to want to go there all the time, he loved running in between the trees that were so tall it was hard to see the sky when he looked up.

It was the perfect place to play hide and seek with his cousins, they always had a lot of fun, except for that time Brendon hid too well, and it took an entire afternoon to find him. His mom had been the one finding him sitting inside the hollow tree, waiting patiently for his cousins to find him and yell “got you!”, she didn't punish him or raised her voice. She was too relieved to see that her son was not lost and was doing perfectly fine, maybe a little cold.

He passes by the exact same hollow tree, and smile to himself, he remembers which one it was because for some unknown reason there had always been blue spray paint on it, maybe hunters did it or a bunch of kids passing by.

Aunt Mary had been pissed when everyone went back inside, Brendon cradled in his mother's arms, she had a new born baby and got left alone by Brochan who, of course, had gone outside to help find the irresponsible little toddler who hides too well while playing hide and seek.

She didn't stay mad for too long though, she had been worried about Brendon like everybody else, and was relieved to see them coming back with him, God knows what could have happened to him if they hadn't found him before the sunset. In late December, the poor kid wouldn't have made it through the night.

His mother didn't leave his side of the entire evening and made sure to check on him in the middle of the night more than she usually did. She was always worried about something happening to him, even a minor thing, she wanted to make sure he was always safe and protected from hurt. It might work with a toddler but once you're faced with a teenager then an adult, it's harder to create a protective bubble.

Brendon's certain his mother would hug him right now, he wouldn't deserve it but she would anyway because somehow, no matter how bad he messes up, she'd still love him and not want him to feel as heavy-hearted as he feels right now.

He's always been a loner, he is used to being alone, but he constructed a strong bond with Aelyn over the past months and he let himself get attached, maybe a little too much, and he found a way to mess things up and lose control of himself and hurt the one person who loved him in a way his mother did. Deeply, and unconditionally.

Ryan loves him too, but not in the same way, and Brendon is convinced that if he would tell Ryan everything, his love would go away, he thinks Brendon is a nice person but he's not, which takes away the number one reason why Ryan loves him.

What kind of person beat their own uncle? What kind of person hurt the person they love the most? What kind of person let themselves have feelings for someone else so soon after their lover died? The answer is simple; a bad person.

His phone buzzes in his pocket, for the tenth time since he's woken up, not that he counted, who would have thought there was signal in the middle of nowhere? Certainly not Brendon.

He pulls his phone out of his pocket and sees he's gotten ten texts, all from Ryan, he sighs and open them, hoping Ryan won't notice he read his texts. Apparently, he's still worried about where Brendon is and he hopes he's okay. He sent a long message, perfectly written, to tell him he misses him and that he hopes Brendon misses him too, along with an attempt to make Brendon feel better about the situation. Maybe Ryan thinks it will make Brendon go back to Las Vegas, but it won't, nothing will.

He turns his phone off, and shoves it in his pocket, reading Ryan's messages doesn't do him any good so he'd rather not know if he sends any at all. It'll probably get him worried if he tried to call and is automatically directed to the voice mailbox, but Brendon didn't pick up any of their calls since yesterday so calling would be vain.

He sighs and curses, he really needs a coffee.

 

***

 

Thanks God he found a coffee house not too far away from the cabin, he wouldn't have survived much longer without a cup of coffee and a couple of toasts. Eating breakfast in a peaceful place makes him feel at home, he doesn't know why, but still, it does, and he wouldn't want it any other way. He might have come here when he was younger, but he doesn't remember it, and judged by the age of the waitress, if he would have come here every year, she would have recognized him by now. It's not like there are a lot of customers coming here.

He's torn away from thoughts when he hears a soft atypical voice coming from in front of him, he looks up from his mug and sees a chubby brunette staring at him, an eyebrow raised questioningly. _Shit,_ he thinks, _did she ask something?_ , as if reading his mind she laughs softly and repeat her question, “is that seat taken?”

Brendon looks around at the nearly empty café, then looks back at the girl still standing there, waiting for an answer, he shrugs, “not really” _not at all,_ he tells himself internly.

She smiles and sits down on the vacant seat, as if Brendon had invited her to do so, she places her mug on the table right in front of her, and carefully places her spoon neatly alongside the mug. Only then does she leans back and wait until the waitress brings a couple of waffles neatly stacked and place the plate on her right, next to the spoon. She thanks the waitress warmly and eat, once she's walked away, back behind the counter.

“You live nearby?” she asks, looking up from her food only to give a quick glance in Brendon's direction.

He clears his throat nervously and nods, mentally face-palming himself at how stupid it is to do that since she's not even looking at him, “yes, I've moved, recently.”

“Ah, that's why I've never seen you here before, usually the only customers besides me are eldery couples in vacation, or sometimes entire families with children, never someone by themself.”

“You live here?” he asks surprised, why would anyone decide to live here permanently? Well, he's in no place to argue with that but he has a good reason to come here, he doesn't have anywhere else to go, and he's forced to stay in this goddamn state.

“Yes, it's recent too, but I've spent a couple of weeks in the past, and that's when I decided I liked it here, it's calm and green, there's a permanent soothing atmosphere wherever you go so it's nice.”

“It's rather uncommon to decide to live here, I mean, out of every place in this country, this one seemed the best option to you?”

“Well, yes, I haven't seen the entire country but I've passed by a lot of cities and none of them made me feel like that, I've always wanted to find a place where I would think 'this is it, this is where I belong' and that's what this place is for me,” she leans back on her chair, done with her waffles, and finally looks up at Brendon.

“Where are you from?” he asks, leaning on the table.

“Chicago.”

“And you ended up here?”

She laughs softly and nods, “I've always wanted to see more of this country, to, as I said, find the place where I feel like I belong, and one of my friends thought it was nice so we went on a roadtrip to Los Angeles. We passed by hundreds of cities on our way there, and I liked it here, but he wanted to see what was next so we kept driving until we reached Los Angeles. Nowhere has felt like this one to me, so I came back here, by myself.”

“Your friend didn't follow you?”

“No, we argued so I left, and I don't have a phone so, we can't really make up, but I don't think he would want to anyway. A friend of mine is supposed to visit me in a couple of days though, so it'll make me feel less lonely.”

Brendon nods and can't help but think about Aelyn, they argued too and he left abruptly, but the situation is different, he hurt Aelyn, physically, and it's not the case with this girl and her friend, at least he doesn't think so. She wouldn't talk about the situation that way if it would have happened in a similar way.

“And you? Why did you move here?”

He sighs and slumps in his seat, “it's a long story.”

“Give me the summary then.”

“Well, my cousin talked to me about something she thinks I did, and I got upset that she actually thought I had done that certain thing, so I gripped her arms too tightly, and I know I shouldn't have. I didn't control it, I gripped her and she looked terrified when she told me to let her go, so I got shocked by what I did and left. I drove for hours and ended up here.”

He waits for her to find an excuse to go away as fast as she can but instead she nods, sitting in the exact same way as she was before he told her a part of the reason why he's here, she doesn't need to know about Brochan. Nor about what the thing his cousin thought he did is.

“It was pretty shitty of you to do that, but you could have apologized and then give her some space to make the first step back to you. It's better than driving away. And leaving her in- where are you from?”

“Las Vegas.”

“Oh I've been there, it's not as interesting as it's made out to be, it's pretty basic, except for the strip but it's like a completely different world so it doesn't really count does it?” she clears her throat and sits straighter, “it's not that far though, you could drive back there and go see her, or if you like it here, call her.”

“I tend to hurt the ones I love, so much that I don't even know who I've hurt and who I have not, it's a big blurry mess, and I can't take the risk to hurt someone again, and certainly not her. We came here every year when we were kids, and we hated each other so much it drove our parents insane. In a way though, I loved her, and when we got back in touch a few months ago, we had both matured, and we got closer and I let myself get attached to her. She already has pretty shitty parents she doesn't need me to make her life any harder. She doesn't deserve to be hurt.” He's never talked about her so openly, and maybe talking to a stranger makes things easier.

“You should tell her that, try to know how she feels about this situation, relationships of any kind, involves two person, therefore decisions can't be one-sided, well they can but the other person needs to accept it not stay out of what's going on.”

“She called me yesterday when I left but since then she didn't call again, so I don't think she wants to have anything to do with me, she's pissed and hurt, and I don't want to make it work, it's for the best that I stay away from her. It's not like I left her alone, she has a bunch of friends, especially one to whom she's exceptionally close to. She'll be fine.”

“She might be fine but it doesn't mean she doesn't have the right to know about what's going on, about how you're feeling. Communication is the key in absolutely every situation.”

“You communicated with your friend when you decided to leave him behind?” he says, colder than he intended to, but it doesn't seem to hurt his compagny, not too much at least.

“No, he wasn't willing to communicate about too much, his family, his past, his feelings, he kept most things away from me and when I opened up to him it got worse, so I got sick of it and left. So I know, communication is important, most issues you have with people exist because you don't communicate enough,” she's quieter now, speaking as if she was telling him secrets.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, be so cold to you, it's just that, communication isn't always an easy thing and I can't call Aelyn and tell her 'hey you probably have bruises by now, but even though I miss you, it's better for me to stay away from you'. I can't, because either she wouldn't pick up the phone or she'll start crying, and you have no idea how heartbreaking it is to hear and see her cry, she's always joyful, and when she's not, it feels like the world is crumbling.”

“You're hurting her even more by not talking to her at all, at least if you call her, yes she'll probably be hurt and maybe she will cry but at least she'd know and it'd be easier for her to accept things as they are and move forward.”

“Is it the kind of moment you see in movies where there's this guardian angel or something disguised as a regular person who gives you deep advices?”

She laughs brightly and for a second she reminds him of Aelyn, the way she throws her head back and close her eyes when she's laughing particularly loudly, “I'm flattered you think that of me, but no it's not, it'd be useful to live these kind of moments in real life, but they don't exist, at least, I don't think so.”

“That's why when we're in deep shit, we stay in deep shit, there's no one to help you out of it and help you clean yourself afterwards. You have to do it by yourself, and it's too much work, even if you'd hypothetically get out of the shit you're in, it would take ages to get the smell off of you.”

She laughs again, snorting a little on the next in take of breath, “that's a good metaphor, you know, it might take long to get the smell off of you but when you finally smell fresh again, you know it was worth it. Whatever is going on in your life, remember, that nothing is impossible to do, some things are harder and take longer but it's never impossible. I've learned that in my short life.”

“My mom always told me something along those lines when I was a kid,” he smiles fondly, “whenever I felt bad at something, she'd tell me that with enough time and dedication I would be able to do anything I wanted to. Even become an astronaut, and it instantly made me happy, because it was my big dream as a kid. I told her I'd go on Saturn once and she's been kind enough not to tell me it was impossible to go on Saturn, and instead told me that if they ever send someone on there, it would be me.”

The girl smiles back at Brendon, a bit of sadness underlying, “moms always have the right words to make you feel unstoppable, especially when you're a kid with a head and heart full of dreams. Mine was like that too, when she was capable of it.”

“Something happened to her?” Brendon isn't sure if he should ask but he does anyway.

“She died when I was fifteen, an ugly tragic thing, it was about time but I hoped it wouldn't happen too soon.”

“I'm sorry. I know it's tiring to here people say they're sorry but I am. My mom died when I was around fifteen as well, along with my dad, so I know what it feels like for you.”

“Thanks. You're the first person I meet who understand what it's like to lose your mom when you're only a teenager, I'm sorry it happened to you as well but it's comforting in some way, to meet someone who understands.”

“I'm Brendon, by the way.”

“Elizabeth,” she says with a small smile, “Liz for short.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too.”

“Here we are, introducing ourselves after talking for about half an hour,” he laughs softly and drinks his coffee, “we're doing things in a weird order.”

“Yes we do, I didn't even think about introducing myself to be honest with you.”

“Me neither, I'm not too comfortable with small talk, I never know what to say and it feels forced, I love going straight to the point and talk about real subjects, it's more natural,” he pauses, “to me.”

“That's true,” she leaves a couple of bills on the table and stands up, “I have to do a few things now, but I'm sure I'll see you around again since you live nearby, and remember what I told you about your cousin, you should call her.”

Once Liz is out of the café, Brendon sighs and slumps down on the table, maybe she's right and he should call Aelyn, but he can't ignore what he's done to her, next time things get out of control, who knows what could happen? He could do to her what he's done to Brochan, and even though he knows it was wrong of him to attack Brochan, he deserved it more than Aelyn. If he'd hurt her in that way, he wouldn't ever be able to forgive himself.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promised myself to post this chapter sooner than usual and so I did and I hope you enjoy reading this. The next chapter will take a tiny bit longer to arrive since it's not written yet, not even a sentence, you can thank my dear friend *points to writer's block* for that. 
> 
> Fun fact: Back in early 2014, I wanted to write a novel, and even though I abandonned it about halfway through it, I still loved my characters a lot, and so that is where Liz is from, the main character of my unfinished novel titled The World At Large. I hope even though she didn't stay for too long you still had a bit of affection for her. For now, she's not meant to return to the story, at all, maybe I'll change my mind but I don't think it'll happen. So if you want to know more about her, feel free to comment and I'll gladly talk about more in depth.
> 
> Also shoutout to Chelsea who's always a sweetheart and comments whenever she have the opportunity to! Your enthusiasm is well appreciated!


	15. Chapter 15

Solitude has never been an issue for Brendon, he's always been a loner, well, at least, since his parents' death. But at this very moment, standing in the middle of an aisle at the local store, it's starting to weight on him. He's been completely completely alone for eighty four hours now, if you exclude the first hours he spent in the cabin up until he met Liz, otherwise it'd be a total of a hundred hours. He'd rather not think about it though. Complete solitude can lead to the decreasing of someone's mental health, and it's clearly not what Brendon needs, nor what he seeked when he drove to the family's cabin.

He drove away without looking back in the past, he's done it twice, and it never did him any good, so why did he think this time would be any different? It always seems like a good idea on the moment but quickly, he starts to realize that, after all, it wasn't a move as smart as he thought it was. But he can't go back to Las Vegas now, he'll go back there soon enough, but not right now, he doesn't have anywhere to go anyway, he left his apartment and he can't go back there when Aelyn lives next door. He just can't.

“Excuse me,” an unknown voice asks from next to him, getting his attention. An old woman is standing there, barely tall enough to reach Brendon's shoulder, she's smiling, as if she just found back someone she hasn't seen in years. She isn't familiar to him at all, maybe she's one of the many people who lose their minds at that age.

“Can I help you?” he asks politely.

“It will sound bizarre to you, but are you the Urie kid? What's the name, uhm,” she starts mumbling to herself for a minute before she speaks at a normal volume again, “Brendon.”

She can't be losing her mind if she knows Brendon's name, “am I supposed to know you?”

“You were a little boy last time I saw you, so you might not recognize me, I'm not upset about it, I understand. I would recognize you anywhere with your big brown eyes, dark like the night sky of December,” she laughs softly and pats Brendon's cheek, as a grandma would do with her grandson, “I used to live in the cabin next to your family's, we spent a bit of time together back in the day, then I moved.”

Now that she said she used to live next door, Brendon remembers vaguely about her, mostly because he saw a picture of himself on her knees in the family photo album, he wondered who she could have been since she was not his grandma.

“I remember you,” her face lights up instantly, “vaguely, but I do, you used to bring me a big chocolate chip cookie right?”

“Yes, oh you loved my cookies so much, you were as happy with a simple cookie as any other kid would have been with a new toy,” her laughter turns into a cough, “what are you doing here? Are you here with your family?”

“No, not this time,” she doesn't need to know he doesn't have any contact with a third of his family, that he's hated by another, and that the last one is dead and gone, “I'm here to get away from the frenzy of the city.”

“It can be stressful and less pleasing than spending time in a peaceful place like this one, but more often than not, people are lost here without everything they need at only a few feet away from them.”

“It's an habit we get to find everything we need so easily, but it's not a big problem to have to drive for miles to get into a tiny bit of civilization.”

She laughs patting on Brendon's arm, “you're not one of them then, you partly grew up here so maybe that is why, you don't mind being here,” she picks up her basket and pinch Brendon's cheek softly, “I have to go or Ernest will wonder what's taking me so long and he'll worry, it was a pleasure to see you again Brendon, it's good to see you healthy and as handsome as you've ever been,” they exchange smiles and then, she's gone, leaving Brendon alone again, in the middle of the aisle.

 _It's good to see you healthy,_ yeah, well it depends on what you call healthy, if it's solely physical then yes you can say Brendon is healthy but mentally, healthy is not the suitable adjective to describe his state. When people talk about health, they always mean physically, as if your brain couldn't be hormonally sick as well. At midnight, on New Years eve, when they wish you to be healthy in this new year, they're sincere but they, once again, only mean physically. At the end of the year when they look back on how it went, they think your year has been great health wise, but your mind might as well be crumbling down and they wouldn't know. And even if they would know, they wouldn't care, mental health is the last health category on people's lists.

Brendon goes through the book section, hoping to find an interesting novel, or anything to keep his mind busy, even the lamest book ever written would do. However, most of the books are aiming at kids, and even though he wouldn't mind reading those books, they're usually really short and it wouldn't keep him busy for too long. He flips through the books until a bright blue one catches his attention, his lips curve into a soft smile as he takes a hold of the book. “Go Bunny!” is written in large letters inside a white cloud.

It used to be Aelyn's favorite book when she was a child, she loved it so much, Bunny became her nickname for a while, it was a sign of great affection to call her that, no matter how many times she'd be called that in a day, it still made her smile brightly, every single time. Bunny was characteristically strong and intelligent, and whenever she stumbled upon an obstacle, she went through it with her head held high even when she was scared, and went on. She was an odd contrast between over-emotional and combatant. Which is exactly what Aelyn has grown to be.

Even miles and miles away, there's always something to remind Brendon of Aelyn, whether it is in the photo album, or the cabin in itself, filled with memories of the time they spent in vacations there, and now a book at the local store. How many chances were there for Brendon to stumble upon this specific book he hasn't seen in years before this foggy morning? He's never been good with probabilities so how would he know? All he knows is that there weren't much of them.

He sighs and decide to buy the book, he's not sure why, maybe to torture his mind with a constant reminder of how he messed up the most important friendship he's ever had. He picks another book which must be a novel, he doesn't really pay attention to it, all he knows is that it's one of the rare books that aren't aiming at kids.

 

***

 

When they came here when Brendon was still a child, he wanted to sit on the balcony ledge, mostly because he saw his cousins doing it and he wanted to feel like a grown up, but his mom told him no, again and again.

Now, he's closer to be thirty than to be any other age, so he decided he'd sit on the balcony ledge to read the novel he bought with a glass of red wine to sip. If his mom can see him right now, she must be two seconds away from a heart attack seeing Brendon sitting there, even though a heart attack wouldn't change anything about where she currently is.

The view from there is unbelievably beautiful, made mostly of trees and the ray of the sun reflecting on the surface of the lake. It'd be the perfect scenery to witness, if you were a painter and wanted to find inspiration for your next creation, but Brendon doesn't know how to draw, even less how to paint, anything other than animals.

He's torn out of his thoughts by the bell being rang downstairs, echoing in the entire dead-silent cabin. He's so startled he almost drop his book down into the grass, somewhere up there, his mom probably shrieked in fear he might fall down such a height just because he's irresponsible enough to sit on the balcony ledge.

He carefully go back on the floor, still confused about who might be ringing the bell, he can't have mail, and Liz doesn't know where he's staying, he didn't tell her, and it can't be the sweet old woman either. Well, it could be her, but Brendon doesn't see why she would come here when she saw him a few hours ago at the local store.

He stands behind the door, petrified, his hand on the doorknob, he breathes heavily, scared? Maybe he is, but even himself doesn't why he could be, nothing dramatic can happen, but seeing how things are going for him, it could be dramatic.

He takes a deep breath and open the door, slowly, like a kid would do with his closet's door, scared a monster might be hiding behind, ready to jump on him and attack him. There is no monster behind the door though, just a handsome man wearing sunglasses, in the middle of November, as if nothing was wrong with that. Next to him, stands a grumpy girl dressed in a hoodie and old jeans, an outfit that has nothing to do with her clothing habit.

His mom isn't the one close to have a heart attack right now, “what are you doing here?” he manages to let out, weakly.

“You did not seriously think we would let you disappear from the face of the earth without trying to find you?”

Leaving his hometown was his decision, but he can't help but be happy they're here, he wants to jump in Ryan's arms and cry until his eyes are so dry he needs drops to save his eyesight, he doesn't though. He's still a threat to the ones he loves and he wouldn't stand it if he would hurt anyone else, he's already attacked Brochan, he hurt Aelyn, God knows what he could have done to his parents and Spencer too.

“It's better if you stay away from me, really.”

“See? That's exactly what I told you, so can we go back home already?” Aelyn says exasperately. Brendon doesn't even dare glancing at her, last time he did, her eyes were wide and fearful.

Neither Ryan nor Brendon say anything back to her, instead Ryan grab Aelyn's arm along with a large duffel bag and walk past Brendon to get inside the cabin, as if he had been invited to do so. Brendon sighs and close the door behind them, Ryan is stubborn, if he decided he'll stay here then he'll do just that and Brendon can't do anything against that. It makes him uncomfortable though, seeing them both standing in the middle of the living room, the one place where Brendon allowed himself to shatter completely a couple of nights ago.

Aelyn stands there, arms crossed over her chest for a moment, before sighing and stomping up the stairs, shutting a door loudly a minute later. Ryan exhales loudly and run a hand through his hair, unsure of what to do or say with Aelyn being pissed and Brendon being visibly tensed and uncomfortable.

“She is angry,” Ryan finally says, stating the obvious.

“I noticed, I can only understand her, after what I've done to her, it's normal that she is pissed, I would be pissed too in that case.”

“Why did you drive away then?”

He gestures towards the stairs as if it was enough to explain the situation, “I didn't want to have to go through her anger and hurt, that's what I do best, when I can't handle something I drive away, as if it would make everything fine again. But it doesn't, it never does, you could be flying to the other side of the world if your problems are still problems, they'll follow you, wherever you go.”

“Actually, she is angry because you left, she started being like that when we realized you left Las Vegas, before that, she was only worried about you. It is true though, if you do not face your problems you can go anywhere they will always be inside your baggage,” he takes a seat on the couch never looking away from Brendon.

“You're pissed too, so why are you here? Neither you nor Aelyn wants to be here, so why are you sitting on my couch right now, staring at me, waiting for me to give you an explanation I didn't even give myself yet? You could have stayed in Vegas and I could have stayed here and everything would have gone perfectly fine.”

“I am less angry than I am upset to be honest with you, you promised you would be home by the time I got back from work, and it turned out you were not here. Instead I found Aelyn pacing in the living room, her phone clutched to her ear and tears streaming down her face. However, it is true, she is angry with you, certainly upset as well, but despite that she got in my car and came here with me, so you do not have the right to say we do not want to be here. You do not get to decide for other people Brendon. Driving away is selfish, especially when you do not leave a note, God, anything could have happened to you, anything, do you have any idea of how scary it was? No, you do not, because you are always the one leaving everyone behind, because of _your_ emotions, you do not think about what people who love you might feel.”

“I left a note when I left Vegas the first time,” he says quietly, Ryan has never talked that much at once, and no one ever talked to Brendon like that, a mix of pissed and caring, “I do think about how people feel when I leave, I truly think it's the best thing for everyone if I leave. I was more a weight than anything for my uncle and my aunt, so I left, Spencer didn't want me anymore, so I left, I hurt Aelyn and she got scared of me, so I left. Maybe it makes me a coward to drive away every time things get complicated, but it doesn't make me selfish because I'm the one who's hurt the most when I do it. I do it mostly for the good of those I love. I can't hurt anyone anymore Ryan, certainly not you nor Aelyn even though it's already been done.”

“You can not pretend to know what people need nor what they want, both sides need to be aware when a decision is made,” he sounds exactly like Liz and for a minute Brendon's taken aback by that.

“So what you're saying is that by doing what's best I still ended up hurting people? What am I supposed to do then? I stay, I hurt people, I leave, I hurt people too.”

“We all hurt someone at some point, it is not the end of the world though, you have to apologize and make up for it and then maybe they will forgive you or maybe they will not. You can not avoid hurting people, it is not possible, trust me, you could try and be the most careful person ever when it comes to other people's feelings and still you would hurt at least one person.”

Brendon sits on the edge of the coffee table and rests his chin on his palms, staring at Ryan's shirt, still too uncomfortable to look at him directly, “but when I hurt people it's physical and it can end really badly, so I should accept that?”

“You are scared because of what happened with Brochan? Brendon, you messed up, I am not going to tell you otherwise, but it does not define you as a person, one action can not define you as a person, it would not be fair.”

“And Aelyn?” he finally looks Ryan in the eyes, a questioning eyebrow raised, “I just messed up with her too? It doesn't define me either?”

“No it does not, you need to learn how to handle your emotions and not let them overwhelm you to the point you do not have control on your actions, it is rather frequent.”

“My parents died when I was fifteen, they got murdered overnight, at first the police thought I did it, then they dropped it, but they never found the murderer and now my own uncle thinks I am the one who killed them. I had a boyfriend in Phoenix, Spencer, he told me he needed space so I packed everything and left, driving back to Las Vegas and arrived there I found out he'd been murdered. I was in Vegas for not too long when Brochan got attacked, and I genuinely thought I didn't do it, I was certain, but I did it, and I still don't remember doing it. So I wonder, maybe I did kill my parents and Spencer and just don't remember that I did it,” once he starts talking he can't stop himself and he probably says too much, but it's flowing out of his mouth compulsively. Ryan's eyes widen slightly once in a while, but he still keeps a neutral expression.

“You are surrounded by violence that is for sure, but the investigation showed you were guilty for Brochan, so if you would have been guilty for your parents' case along with Spencer's, police officers would have figured that out by now do you not think?”

“My parents' case is closed now, and the investigation for Spencer's case happens in Phoenix, so I don't know where their investigation is going, nor if they even are investigating. I didn't even get to go to his funeral, to tell him goodbye, tell him I loved him one last time, even if there was a large amount of chances for him not to feel the same anymore. But I didn't get to go there, I don't even know when it was, and I can't even go to the cemetery because I don't know where he's buried and I can't even leave the state now,” here it comes, he started talking about Spencer and now he can't stop, “I met Spencer about four years ago, in a bar, on the anniversary of my parents' death, he was so beautiful with his blue eyes and soft smile, it was as if on this shitty day, still, there was some light, some good, in the form of this angel like figure standing next to me. We talked and it felt comfortable and easy, I didn't have to overthink what to say, I've never ever had to with him. We became friends that night and spent a lot of our free time together after that, it didn't take long for us to become more than that,” he smiles smally yet fondly at the memory, “we dated for three years, we lived together and everything was perfectly fine, then we started arguing more and more, and one day when I got back from work he told me he wanted to have time to think about us, without me. I left with a few boxes with my stuff inside and I didn't stop driving until I entered Las Vegas. And that's the last time I saw him, I didn't tell him I loved him, I didn't tell him anything about how I felt for him, instead I left never looking back. Or I murdered him and left afterwards who even knows anymore?”

Ryan stays quiet for a minute, staring at a spot somewhere behind Brendon, emotionless, as if he were on pause. Brendon's heart rate speeds up, each second passing where Ryan doesn't move feeling agonizingly endless. He knew Ryan would hate him if he told him about Spencer, and he can't blame him for it, it's a normal reaction, who would deal well with a man who lets himself have affection for another man when three months ago he was happily settled with someone?

Ryan takes a deep breath and furrows his eyebrows before relaxing again, finally looking at Brendon, “I do not think you murdered him Brendon,” is all he says before shutting up again, leaning back against the couch.

“You hate me,” he sighs shakily, “that's exactly why I didn't want to tell you about Spencer.”

“I do not hate you,” he leans his elbows on his knees, getting closer to Brendon, “it is far from being the case, all of this just comfirms what I thought and it makes me realize I was right about,” he pauses, clearing his throat, “us.”

“Right about what? What did you think?”

“I thought you needed time, that your heart clearly was somewhere else and that if I wanted to get closer to you I needed to take things slow. We shared my bed after our first date and it was too soon even if we did not do anything, you woke up and you thought you were with Spencer, that is when I knew I needed to give you space. And now I know why you needed it.”

In the past few weeks, Ryan felt distant and cold, awkwardly patting on Brendon's back when it would have been far more logical for him to kiss him. It made Brendon go crazy over it, overanalyzing things and thinking Ryan didn't want him at all anymore, that he changed his mind about Brendon, right at the moment Brendon started getting attached to him, more than regular people do to a friend. And all this time, Ryan simply wanted to let Brendon breathe, not to rush him, all he cared about was Brendon's well-being over what he wanted.

“I- I thought you had changed your mind about me, I thought that was why you didn't- you weren't like you used to be with me, and all this time you just wanted to give me time?” Brendon asks in confusion.

“You truly thought I would change my mind about you? That quickly? I still want to be with you Brendon, there is no doubt in that, now what matter is if _you_ want to be with me too. I do not want to be with someone who wants to be with someone else, or someone who thinks about someone else when they are with me. And I certainly do not want you to feel forced to be with me just because I have feelings for you.”

“I feel like I'm betraying Spencer if I let you in, he's been dead for almost three months now, and I shouldn't be developping feelings for someone else,” he swears Ryan's face lights up for a second when he says that, “it's not right, three months is not enough time to let someone go, not when they disappeared from your life that abruptly. He got murdered,” his vision blurs and he doesn't even bother wiping at his cheeks when he feels them wet, “and I'm already considering replacing him, what kind of person does that make me? Maybe I murdered him and that's why it's happening so quickly.”

Ryan considers pulling him into a warm and tight hug but he refrains, worried about making the situation worse for Brendon, so instead he rests his hands on Brendon's, running his thumb along the back of them, “grief takes various amount of time depending on the person, it does not make you a bad person not to mourn anymore three months after he died. And you feeling that way about the situation proves that you did not turn the page completely, you are still in grief, you just do not feel the pain as heavily as you might have felt it a couple of months ago. It does not make you a murderer,” he stares into Brendon's eyes to make sure he hears him clearly and process his words, “no one asks you to replace him, you can not replace him, no one ever will have the same place in your heart as he had, and that is okay, he will always be a part of you. You are not betraying him, you just go on, taking baby steps, but steps nonetheless, and you should not feel guilty about it.”

“What would he think? If he sees me right now, what would he think? Do you think he'd be happy or upset? Proud or sad? Watching someone you love, loving someone else is the worst heartache, right after grief.”

“I know,” he takes a hold of Brendon's hands and hold them tightly, “if he watches you right now, from wherever- I can not tell you what he would feel, but I can tell you that he would want you to go on, at your own pace.”

“Or he might think 'wow it didn't take him long to forget me, nice' and he'd be right, if the roles were reversed I would feel exactly like that.”

“You already worry enough about how the living are feeling so do not worry about how the dead might feel, if they feel anything at all. And you did not forget about him, you are talking about him right now, worrying about what he would think of your situation, and you would not do these things if you would have forgotten about him.”

“You remind me of my mom,” Brendon says quietly, earning a questioning look from Ryan, “she always had the right words in every situation, no matter how I felt she always knew what to tell me to make me feel a bit better and handle things with more ease. It was as if she had a magic book with every answers in the world and picked speeches from it before coming to talk to me. You're like that too.”

“You never talked about your mother before, I guess it is a good thing that I remind you of her in a good way, and I am glad I find the right words to make you feel even just the slightest better,” he presses a soft kiss on Brendon's knuckles, letting his lips linger there for a moment, “tell me more about your mom.”

“She was a beautiful woman, always dressed impeccably, always smiling even in rough times, but most of all she loved me more than anything in the world, and every time she held me or looked at me I felt like I was the most important person to ever grace the surface of earth. I remember when I was a child, she used to listen to old musicals on her turntable and sang along, swirling across the living room as if it was her stage. I sat on the couch and watched her for hours, sometimes I went to dance with her, but most of the time I just stared, in admiration,” he perks up wiggling to sit more comfortably on the coffee table, “when we were coming here at the end of every year, she would cook for the entire family, it was always delicious. I remember once I sat on the counter in the kitchen and mixed a sauce with a whisk while she was preparing the meat, and when I gave her the recipient she smiled brightly and told me I was a talented little boy who could be chief someday. I'll never forget the smile she gave me that day,” for the first time in the past few days, he smiles, bright and wide, “she was my favorite person in the world, I didn't always show her but I think, and hope that, deep down she knew.”

“I am sure she knew, mothers feel that kind of things, it seems she was a wonderful woman, the apple did not fall far from the tree.”

Brendon frowns slightly, “I'm far from being as good of a person as my mom was, as far as pluto is from the sun.”

“She was caring, and had a big heart, it is your case as well, you certainly were different on certain points, but not these ones.”

Brendon stands up from the coffee table to sit on Ryan's lap, bringing his knees against his chest, seeming incredibly smaller than he truly is, almost the size of a child. Ryan tightly wraps his arms around him, pressing a soft kiss on the top of his head.

“She loved me so much, she loved me to the point I think she'd be proud of me right now, and defend me and still love me with all her heart, no matter what I've done to my own uncle. I would give everything for her to come back.”

“She was a good mom, you love her just as much as she loved you and it is beautiful to see, it must have been overwhelming to stand in a room with the both of you loving one another that much,” he laughs softly, even though it sounds out of place right now.

Brendon smiles against Ryan's chest though, content with the mood lightening up a bit, “she would have loved you, the way you sound so smart every time you speak, the way you dress impeccably at all time just like she did,” he trails off snuggling even closer to Ryan.

“I would have loved to know her,” he says quietly, hand combing back Brendon's hair in a soft motion.

“Things were easier when she was here, everything went downhill since she left,” Brendon says closing his eyes, focusing on Ryan's hand in his hair slowing his heart rate.

“I know it feels like your world is falling apart right now, but whenever you hit the bottom you can use it as a springboard to go back up, and that is exactly what you will do. Things will get better for you, do not give up,” he presses a soft kiss on the top of Brendon's head never stopping the movement of his hand.

“Aelyn hates me and I'll probably go to jail for the next decade, so yes I think my world is actually falling apart.”

“She does not hate you, I already told you she is upset, she will come around eventually and you two will be able to conversate. And you will not go to jail for the next decade Brendon.”

“That's the sentence for beating someone up and running away like I did, and without any lawyer you can bet I'll get the longest sentence possible.”

“You will not, I will not let you go to jail for ten years, I will call my mom, she will help you, after I kept her dog in my appartment for an entire weekend she owes me a favor, and she will be your lawyer, for free.”

Brendon quickly straighten up almost hitting Ryan in the chin in the process, “your mom is a lawyer? She'll help me?” he smiles brightly when Ryan nods, “I'm the one who owes you something now, even many things to make up for that,” he looks around processing the news, “thank you!” without thinking twice about it he presses his lips against Ryan's, kissing him softly yet enthusiastically, pressing close to him, he hadn't realize how much he missed his lips.

It doesn't take long for Ryan to pull away from the kiss, “you do not owe me that kind of things, no matter how much I love your lips.”

“That's not why I kissed you, I was just happy about the situation and felt like kissing you.”

“Oh,” he gently bites on his lower lip, feeling stupid, “come here,” he cups Brendon's face, pulling him in a tender kiss, none of them pulling away this time.

Somehow it feels appropriate and comfortable, and it makes Brendon wonder how he could have lived without those kisses full of tenderness and love, without Ryan's peach soft lips. A lot of things are falling apart in his life, and he needs to fix them if he doesn't want to drown, but they can wait a little moment. It's not like things could get any worse anymore.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After a brief writer's block, I now have enough inspiration to always have a few of the next chapters ready when I post a new one, I'm not sure how long it'll last though since the most complicated part of the story is coming soon and I need to do some research before starting to write just so I don't look like a fool and because I love accuracy. 
> 
> I hope you like this chapter!


	16. Chapter 16

The faint scent of cooked mixed herbs is the first thing Brendon is aware of when he regains semi-consciousness, the comfort of the couch is only a close second. He doesn't remember falling asleep, so he's obviously disoriented when he sits up on the couch, lazily rubbing his eyes. The cabin is dimly lit, the outside in complete darkness, that's one thing he likes about being here, when the sun is set, there is absolutely no light, unlike in the city where there are street lamps and lights of the cars passing by.

He leans on the backrest of the couch, and looks around until his eyes land on Ryan cooking in the kitchen, glowing, as if he was the only thing that mattered. A bit like in those old portraits you can find at the museum, where the person is bright and beautiful, meanwhile the background is dark, almost inexistant, forcing your eyes to focus on the person standing there. If there was a painting of Ryan, it would be sold for millions, Brendon is sure of that. Spencer glowed too in that bar on that shitty night four years ago...

He shakes this thought out of his head and join Ryan in the kitchen, the sound of the whisk seeming louder than it truly is in the otherwise silent cabin. He takes a seat on the counter, causing Ryan to jump and drop the whisk on the floor, picking it up only after he took time to curse.

“God, you scared me, I did not know you were awake,” Ryan says, scratching the back of his head.

“That's what I see, sorry I almost gave you a heart attack,” he smiles apologetically, “what are you cooking?”

“An improvisation, a broth with various ingredients I found, and a chocolate mousse if I do not mess it up in the process.”

“You're lucky I went to the local store earlier today, or you wouldn't have been able to cook anything at all, anything edible at least.”

“There is always something to make out of ingredients, no matter what they are,” he laughs softly when Brendon raises an eyebrow in doubt, “I have watched quite a lot of cooking shows in my free time, and some of them show you how to make a decent meal with ingredients you would have never thought of.”

“You're the last person I would imagine watching cooking shows,” he stares at Ryan whisking the egg whites vigourously, not showing any signs of fatigue in his arm.

“And yet, I do,” he sighs in relief when he sees the egg whites starting to mousse, “did you sleep well? I did not know if I should have put you to bed, I would not even have known which room is yours, anyway.”

“I slept well, and it's a good thing you didn't put me to bed, I don't think you could have handled carrying me up the stairs, it'd have been a big mess.”

“I am stronger than you think, do not underestimate me,” he mumbles, concentrated on pouring the white eggs in the chocolate to mix them together carefully not to break the light mousse. Once he's done he steps back, proud of himself for not messing it up, “now that this is done, come here,” he says before lifting Brendon off of the counter and carrying him around the kitchen, “so, I can not carry you around huh?”

“I said you couldn't carry me up the stairs it's different,” he holds onto Ryan's neck for dear life, scared Ryan might drop him at any second.

“Oh,” slowly, Ryan starts to walk towards the stairs, and carefully, goes up, step by step, with a still frightened Brendon holding onto him, trying visibly hard not to laugh at Ryan in deep concentration, “do not laugh at me or I will drop you.”

“See? That's exactly what I said, you can't carry me up the stairs, now put me down before one of us gets injured.”

“I can carry you, it is just that you are in my sight and I can not see where I am stepping,” he keeps climbing up the stairs until the second to last step where he stumbles and falls face first, landing on Brendon who's already lying on the floor, laughing out loud. He stops and stare at Brendon, feeling the rapid movements of his stomach against his own as he keeps laughing, tears of laughter rolling along his temple and into his hair.

Once he stops laughing, lying there out of breath, he notices Ryan staring at him, still lying on top of him in the middle of the corridor, “what?” he asks, feeling lighter than he has in the past few weeks.

Ryan blinks as if brought back to reality, “it is the first time I hear you laugh, and I did not realize until you started laughing.”

Now that Ryan mentions it, Brendon doesn't remember when was the last time he laughed as hard as he just did, “it feels good, to laugh like that.”

“I have never heard anything more beautiful,” Ryan says quietly, staring at Brendon for a moment before standing up and holding his hand out towards Brendon to help him stand back up, “we have a dinner waiting for us downstairs, I do not think Aelyn will come join us though.”

Ryan starts going downstairs, shortly followed by Brendon, who still has a glance for the closed door of Aelyn's room, hoping it might magically open if he looks at it with enough concentration. But it doesn't.

 

***

 

It's not until the next afternoon that Brendon knocks shyly on Aelyn's door that has stayed closed ever since both her and Ryan arrived the previous day. At first, he hears nothing behind the door, then he hears Aelyn shuffling around, still she doesn't speak up. He knocks again a bit more firmly and receive a mumbled _yes_ from behind the door, he opens it and peeks his head inside, so that Aelyn can see it's Brendon and not Ryan.

“What the hell are you doing here?” she asks trying to sound angrier than she truly is, she seems more tired to be angry than anything else. She's wearing a simple t-shirt, showing light purple on her arms, Brendon stares at them for a moment, feeling nauseous.

“I-” his throat feels tight, barely allowing air to pass through his lungs, “you didn't leave your room since you arrived yesterday, and I- I wanted to know if you needed anything, you should eat something at least, it's not good to stay without eating for that long.”

“And since when do you care about my well-being?” she looks at him defiantly, arms crossed against her chest.

“Forever?” he says hesitantly, “I hurt you, I thought you were letting me down and- I know it's not an excuse and I'm truly not trying to find one anyway, but I thought you were letting me down and I- I freaked out, and lost control and I ended up hurting you. I'm sorry I hurt you, and I don't mind you hating me, maybe like that I won't be able to hurt you anymore, but you can't stay locked in here forever.”

“I know that,” she scoffs, “but you don't get it, at all.”

“Explain to me then.”

She shakes her head slowly, as if she was forced to do it by an unknown force, “I can't explain to you something you're not willing to understand, the fact that you did it a second time shows that you have no idea it's wrong and hurtful.”

Brendon gets more and more confused with every word Aelyn says, “I know what I did is wrong, that's why I understand if you hate me and that's why I apologized even if it could never make up for it.”

“It's not about that!” she almost yells, surprising Brendon, “you messed up by hurting me physically and I am pissed about that, but emotional injuries hurt way more, and _that_ is what I'm really, truly, deeply pissed and upset about. But you don't understand just how wrong it is, how hurtful it is for me, you only think about yourself, what is good for you, and what I feel doesn't matter to you, it never did and it still doesn't,” she sighs and quickly wipes her cheeks, “now leave, I don't want to see you, if I get hungry I'll find my way to the kitchen.”

Brendon opens his mouth to say something but decides better and instead, leave the room, closing the door behind him. Talking to Aelyn didn't help him, if anything it made him even more confused about the entire situation. If Aelyn isn't pissed about Brendon hurting her, then he doesn't see why she could be angry, it doesn't make sense, at all.

He can't shake the sight of the bruises on Aelyn's arms out of his head, how bold the light shade of purple looked on her pale skin, he didn't grip her for more than a few seconds, but still bruises formed, and stayed long enough to be visible even almost a week afterwards. His grip must have been far tighter than he realized up until now, he doesn't remember what happened clearly, it's blurry in his mind. What he knows for sure is that even though it may seem like something minor, given that it happened once and rather briefly, it still is deeply, awfully wrong, and out of every person on earth, Aelyn is the last one Brendon would have wanted to hurt. And yet, that's exactly what he did.

However, Aelyn doesn't seem to be angry with him because of that, but as she said, more about something else that he did, twice. He has no idea what she meant when she said that and she doesn't plan on telling him anytime soon, so how is he supposed to figure it out by himself? He can't read people's mind, and even if he could, he'd rather not, it must be a peculiar thing to be able to know what's going on in other people's head. You can know everything they think about you and it wouldn't be healthy.

When he steps in the living room, Ryan is sitting on the couch, a photo album on his lap, flipping through the pages, a concentrated look on his face. He takes a seat besides Ryan and sighs loudly, trying to get Ryan attention, so that he might ask what is going on, what's wrong. He doesn't though just pat on Brendon's thigh and keep flipping through the pages covered in pictures of Brendon and his parents and Aelyn and everything that has ever happened in this goddamn cabin. He sighs again, louder, and this time it gets Ryan to turn his attention away from the old photos, to Brendon.

“What is going on?” Ryan finally asks, satisfying Brendon.

“I talked to Aelyn,” he says slowly, “and I saw the bruises on her arms.”

“Oh,” he puts the album on the coffee table and turn to face Brendon, “they are pretty ugly, I know, they are fading though, so it is a good thing, a day or two and they will be completely gone.”

“As if nothing ever happened, but we will know it happened, and the memory of it will always be here, lingering in our minds, and nothing will ever be the same as it used to be before I messed up. And I don't mind Aelyn not ever talking to me, because it's justified, but I mind the fact I did what I did, I know it's wrong, I don't want to do it, yet I still lose control once in a while, overwhelmed by emotions and hurt people around me. Why? Why do I do it if I know it's inherently wrong?”

“It might be an emotional issue, you have to discover what the problem is and then fix it, either through therapy or something similar.”

“I'm not crazy.”

“I did not say you were, I know hearing emotional issue and therapy can be scary, especially when you have no idea what is going on in your head at the moment, but it is for the best, for your well-being,” he takes a hold of both of Brendon's hands, “you are not a bad person, you are not a monster, and you are not messed up.”

“That's why I need to be fixed?"

“You do not need to be fixed, you just need to get certain parts of your thinking pattern under control, it is frequent, look at anger management, people learn how to handle their overwhelming anger, it is not fixing, it is,” he pauses, searching for the right word to use, “improving.”

“Improving? As in becoming a better person? See? You think I'm a bad person too!”

“No I do not, we all could use some improving, you just need it more, for your well-being, you can not stay with the idea that you are a bad person, and you can not isolate yourself in fear of hurting the ones you love,” he presses a soft kiss on Brendon's forehead, “I will not let you do that.”

“And what if I 'improve' like you say? What will happen next? You think it would erase the things I've done and the ones I've probably done but I don't remember doing? It wouldn't, Aelyn would still remember that moment I gripped her and scared her, Brochan would still remember that Saturday night I left him in the back of the café. And if I also did those things, my parents would still be dead, and Spencer still would be too.”

“I do not think you killed your parents, nor Spencer, just because you messed up a couple of times does not mean you are responsible for every tragedy that has ever happened in your life. If you would have done those things, I am pretty sure police officers would have found out by now. Do not put false ideas in your head Brendon, do not,” he tightens his hold on Brendon's hands, “now, how about we lighten up the mood? Would you comment on your photograph album so that I can look at them without just seeing a bunch of faces I do not know?”

Brendon sighs then nod, “well, you know at least two of the faces.”

Ryan chuckles lightly, “three actually, I recognized your mother on the spot, you got your beauty from her.”

“She definitely was a beautiful woman,” he takes the album back from the coffee table and places it half on his own lap, half on Ryan's, “the tall emotionless man standing right there,” he puts his index finger right under the head of the man, “that's my dad. He always looked as emotionless as he does here, he wasn't though, at least, not all the time, he just thought it made him a better patriarch. His father was like that and he wanted to appear just like him. He was different when he was at home, not entirely, because he still acted like that with me, just a tiny bit softer than outside the house. But with my mom, when they were alone, he was different, he held her, and always had sweet words for her, I know that because I sometimes observed them, I was a curious child,” he smiles softly and turn the page, “here I am, proudly holding my guitar on Christmas morning, it had buttons in forms of animals, and when you pressed them, it made the sound of the animal. It also had colorful buttons on the neck, to play melodies.”

“You were an adorable child, I love this photograph, it captures your happiness perfectly, and the lights on the Christmas tree right behind creates beautiful hues in the background.”

“Mom always took great pictures,” he sighs and closes the album, “you want to go for a walk?”

“We're in November is it not freezing cold outside?”

“Not if you wear enough layers of clothing,” he shrugs.

 

***

 

“Brendon I can not go as high as that, I am going to fall and crack my skull and you will have my death on your conscience,” Ryan whines, clumsily trying to climb up the tree.

A dozen of minutes into their walk in the woods, Brendon decided it would be a good idea to go sit on a branch of one of the strongest tree there, to have a perfect view on the lake. However, Ryan didn't see this as a good idea, he doesn't know how to climb up trees. It didn't look complicated when Brendon went all the way up skilled as a monkey, but once Ryan tried to climb and slipped along the trunk of the tree a couple of times, he realized it would be a far harder task than it seemed to be.

Brendon waits patiently, sitting on the branch, and a hundred of tries later, Ryan finally takes a seat next to Brendon even though he's a bit wobbly, ill-at-ease with the height they're at. Once he settles though, he feels slightly more comfortable and even dare to look around, seeing the lake perfectly from up here. The sun reflects on the water and if they wait long enough, they might see the sun set.

“So, it was a bad idea?” Brendon asks, raising an eyebrow.

“It definitely was a bad idea, but it is worth it, it is beautiful up here.”

“It truly is,” Brendon takes a deep breath and take a hold of Ryan's hand, intertwining their fingers, and somehow it feels right, sitting there with Ryan, holding his hand.

He looks at the sky, the sun is about to set and he wonders if somewhere up there, Spencer looks at him, and is okay with seeing him holding Ryan's hand, with him feeling lighter in Ryan's presence, with him feeling his heart swell everytime his eyes land on the man sitting besides him.

The sun set, its orange light reflecting on the surface of the water, he turns to look at Ryan who's staring at the scenery in front of them, as if he just discovered the entire world for the very first time. The orange tint in the light brings out the golden in his eyes and he's never looked as beautiful has he does right now, sitting on a branch, watching the sun set. Brendon gets lost in his awe and doesn't come back to reality until Ryan turns to look at him, certainly having felt his eyes on him. He squeezes Ryan's hand as if he needed it not to fall off of the tree, and leans forward to kiss Ryan, a bit shakily, but he hopes it's not too obvious.

It's not the first time they kiss, not even the first time since Ryan arrived yesterday, but this kiss feels different, it's much more intimate than every kiss they shared in the past. For a second, Brendon is scared to lose his balance and fall on the ground, even though the branch they're sitting on isn't even that high, but then everything in his brain is Ryan and only Ryan. The softness of his lips, his scent, the warmth of his body next to him even in this cold evening of November, how his hand feels in his own, fingers intertwined as if their hands were perfectly carved for one another.

Ryan pulls away, so slowly, Brendon can feel each inch of their lips seperating, one by one, “we should go back inside before we freeze on this branch,” he whispers as if he didn't want to break whatever magical atmosphere they were in.

Brendon nods slowly and they go back on the floor, after Ryan clinged to the top of the trunk for a moment, scared to slip and break his head, he doesn't fall though, and so they walk back inside in a comfortable silence, holding one another's hand.

 

***

 

Brendon feels weird, lying there, completely naked on a bed he used to sleep in when he was a child, in a cabin he used to spend most of his vacations in. Ryan is still partially dressed, wearing a plain t-shirt and his underwear, kneeling next to Brendon, his eyes look at him from head to toe and back up. Brendon's breathing quickens, nervous under the gaze of the man with whom he's shared much more than he ever thought. Baring your soul to someone is different than baring your body to them, even though he's more self-conscious about his inside than his outside, he's still self-conscious nonetheless, therefore nervous.

Ryan spreads Brendon's legs just enough to fit in between, still kneeling on the mattress, he runs his fingertips along Brendon's sides, thighs, until he reaches his knees. He leans above him and start kissing his neck, softly at first, barely a press of lips, then growing more loving and passionate, as if he'd want to eat him whole. He kisses his way down to Brendon's chest, running his fingers along Brendon's arms taking hold of his hands to place them above his head, pressed against the pillow.

Brendon bites his lip to muffle his whimpers when Ryan teases one of his nipples with the tip of his tongue, licking slowly in a circular motion, before giving the same treatment to the other one. He kisses Brendon's side, kissing his way up, passing by his armpit, arm, elbow, all the way to his linked hands above his head, then goes back down the other arm, resuming to kissing down his belly, along his happy trail. Under his lips, Ryan can feel Brendon's muscles tighten, more and more after each kiss.

He intentionally doesn't pay attention to Brendon's cock, priviledging his hips, biting at the thin layer of skin covering the bone, Brendon's hips buck up, his breath getting heavier at each of Ryan's kisses and bites.

Ryan grabs Brendon's foot and kisses a line on the underside, making Brendon smile as it tickles him slightly, his kisses go down along his naked calf up to his knee. He let go of Brendon's foot and does the exact same thing to the other one, before putting it back down, and giving his full attention to Brendon's inner thighs. He kisses both of them alternately, biting at the skin, gently pulling, earning a quiet moan from Brendon who's still lying there with his hands linked above his head.

Once he's bit the skin enough for it to start marking, he continues his way up, sneaking his tongue between Brendon's cheek, licking a broad stripe over his hole, causing Brendon to gasp and choke on air. Ryan smiles at Brendon's reaction and kisses up his perineum, pressing wet kisses to his balls until he reaches his cock of which he licks the underside, stopping to tease the flushed head. Brendon's back arch, his lower lip stuck between his teeth to keep his soft moans quiet, Ryan suckles on the head until it starts leaking, allowing him to taste Brendon. He glances up and sees Brendon's head thrown back, his neck and chest flushed, heaving faster and faster at each suckle.

Ryan kisses his way up Brendon's body, going back to pressing kisses to his exposed neck, he cups Brendon's cheek and places his lips against Brendon's, making sure to put just as much passion and affection as he did in every single kiss on his gorgeous body.

“Your body is marvelous,” he whispers in Brendon's ear, nibbling at his earlobe, “do I have your permission to make love to you?” he pulls away, and gaze at Brendon lovingly.

Brendon looks up at Ryan, who's still staring at him as if he was the most beautiful thing he's ever seen in his entire life, slowly caressing Brendon's hair. Brendon pulls him down to kiss him, as passionately as Ryan kissed him a few minutes earlier, clutching at his shirt.

He pulls away, and nods, biting his lip, Ryan smiles at him, his eyes twinkling, and sits back up to grab the hand lotion from the night table.

 

***

 

The sun rises and lighten the room through the thick curtains, Brendon groans and hides his face under the bedcovers, in an attempt to block out the light that is blinding him this early in the morning. He feels an even breath tickling the nape of his neck, and smiles at the sensation, pressing his back closer against the warm body behind him.

Last night was mindblowing, and magical, he haven't felt this good in forever, even though he can't comprehend why Ryan seems to see him as a treasure, especially after everything he's supposed to have done, he's content with the way things are and he certainly won't be the one complaining.

He turns around in Ryan's embrace, admiring him fast asleep, looking serene and relaxed, his skin looks golden lit by the rising sun, Brendon stares at him in awe, never in his life has he seen anything more perfect than this. It almost looks like a painting, a piece of art made to be shared through the century for its unbelievable beauty to be remembered forever.

He keeps staring, not daring to move any part of his body, too scared it might ruin the perfect sight he has right now. Ryan's eyes flutter open, almost instantly shutting again, blinded by the light, he opens an eye tentatively, and smiles when he's met with the sight of Brendon close to him, looking at him with fascination.

Ryan looks at Brendon lovingly, running the back of his fingers along the soft skin of Brendon's cheek.

“I love you,” he whispers tenderly.

Much to Ryan's surprise, Brendon sits up at the speed of light staring at him with bewilderment, as if he had been burned or as if he just realized Ryan was an evil creature coming from outer space.

“Well, that is not quite the reaction I expected,” Ryan says sitting up slowly, a look of hurt on his face.

“You- you can't feel that way for me.”

“Why not?”

“Because I,” Brendon sits even further from Ryan, and takes a deep breath, “I'm a monster Ryan, and you can try to deny it as much as you want, it is still a fact. I always hurt the ones I love and those who love me, it's even worse than hurting strangers or people you hate. Please, don't love me.”

“We already conversed about that Brendon, you are not a monster, and it is a fact, you are not one. I do not even believe monsters exist, we all have a part of humanity in us, hell, even Hitler had a soft side. And even if monsters did exist you would not be one of them, you mess up pretty badly once in a while, and you have emotions management issues, it does not make you a monster or a bad person, it just means you are not perfect. No one is perfect and I do not need you to be, you are the way you are and I-” he pauses, his heart racing, “I love you just like that.”

“I don't love you,” Brendon blurts out, “and you should be happy about that, it means you get to stay alive, you can leave now, and take Aelyn with you, I know she doesn't want to be here.”

“You- but-” Ryan's eyes redden as tears start rolling down his cheeks, ever since they met, Brendon has never seen him cry, not once, not even while watching a gutwrenching movie. If he leaves, he won't get hurt by Brendon, physically at least, but he'll be broken-hearted, so either way Brendon will end up hurting him. “Last night you- we- you meant it right? Your kisses and touches and- it was not all in my head, was it?”

“How could I have said no to getting fucked? I'm psycho, not stupid.”

“Oh,” Ryan's breath gets heavier, tears now soaking his cheeks, “I- I will not make an idiot of myself any longer then,” he gets up and get dressed quickly, sniffing, quietly, but Brendon can hear him perfectly from where he's sitting on the bed. He doesn't even have a glance for Brendon as he leaves the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

As soon as the door clicks, Brendon let himself fall back on the mattress, tears starting to spill from his eyes. Ryan might be heartbroken but he will get better, he wouldn't be able to get better if he were to die, so it's a blessing in disguise.

Last night was much more than simply getting fucked, it was intense and dripping with so much love it was almost overwhelming, looking into Ryan's eyes as he thrusted slowly, dragging the pleasure, was beyond magical. He'll never forget all the different ways Ryan praised his body and his beauty, nor the look in Ryan's eyes when he got close, nor the desperate edge in the passionate kiss they exchanged when they came, barely a minute apart.

For the entirerty of the night, Brendon has felt like a godlike figure, the most valuable treasure in the world, and he knew, he felt the love in every movements, it was Ryan's way to tell him he loved him without having to word it. And Brendon responded to every kiss, every caress, in his own way to tell him that, he loved him as well. But somehow when Ryan worded it earlier, out of the hypnotizing transe they were in the previous night, he understood everything it implied, and he couldn't stand to put Ryan through all of this.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy this new chapter! Make sure to comment even if you're not sure of what to say you can simply comment "enjoyed this chapter" and it would make my day, it takes less than minute and it makes someone aka me, very happy.


	17. Chapter 17

The air is cool on the balcony, a light wind blowing on Brendon's half naked frame, making him shiver, he sighs and look at the lake, it's far less beautiful now than it was yesterday. He takes a seat on the balcony ledge, not even caring about being cold, there's nothing else to be expected on a morning of late November, especially near a lake.

“I don't know where you are right now, I don't know what happens to us after we-” he looks down at his hands fiddling with his underwear, “you probably don't even hear me but it makes me feel better to feel like I can talk to you when I need it, I can't stand the idea of not talking to you ever again. I met a man,” he sighs, “I hope you're not mad at me for it, he's no you, but he's still pretty damn amazing, and somehow he loves me, I know I shouldn't be too hard on myself, but I'm not, it's just that it feels surreal that someone amazing loves me. In my life, I happened to hurt every person who loved me and whom I loved back, even recently, and I can't take the risk to hurt him, Spence, I can't, but by pushing him away, I broke his heart. Even when I'm trying to protect my loved ones, I end up hurting them.”

His teeth start to chatter but he ignores it, “I'll just have to spend the rest of my life alone, completely alone, how is that a way to live? It sucks, there's no point of living if you're going to spend a hundred per cent of your time all by yourself. I should just let myself fall forward and crash on the grass but it'd be embarrassing to be found dead in my underwear on humid grass. What a ridiculous way to leave this world,” he laughs softly, “so ridiculous it's laughable.”

He gets startled by the sound of the room's door opening violently as if kick open, he almost slips off of the ledge in the process, he really needs to stop sitting on the ledge because one of those days he'll fall and die in a stupid way. He gets back inside the room and see Aelyn standing in the middle of it, clearly pissed, she kicks the door closed and steps towards Brendon, starting to half-yell without giving him a second to say a word.

“How dare you?” she shoves him with so much force he stumbles backwards, almost falling on the floor, “how dare you?! What makes you think you can let Ryan fall in love with you only to tell him you don't love him and that everything that happened between you didn't mean a thing?!”

Brendon has never seen her in such a rage, he opens his mouth to speak but she cuts him off before any sound has time to come out, “Ryan is the most precious person you could ever meet, he has a huge heart, full of love, and he's the last person to deserve that kind of treatment! You're not worthy of his love, you're not worthy of just walking on the same earth as him! You disgust me!” she only stops because she's out of breath, and Brendon take this opportunity to speak up.

“I know how precious Ryan is, and I know I'm not worthy of anything from him, he deserves so much better than a man who could hurt him at any moment, the second he's upset about a minor thing that somehow feels so much more important on the spur of the moment. I know I broke his heart, and don't think that mine isn't broken too, but it's for the best, for him, and his safety.”

“How is it for the best when he's crying? He never cries, I haven't seen him cry in years, he's hurt, much more than you seem to imagine, that's not what I call being for the best, Brendon. It's for the best in your head, you always do what's best for you, you never think about how much you might hurt people around you with your decisions.”

“I care,” he raises his voice to get his point across, “it is for the best, _his_ best, his heart is broken, and I truly am sorry for hurting him, don't think it didn't rip my heart when he started crying, but I'd rather break his heart and make him cry, than give him all my love and end up hurting him, beating him, just because I'm upset.”

“Wait, you love him?” she sounds genuinely surprised.

“Who wouldn't?”

“But you make him believe you don't?”

“Yes, because if I explain the situation to him he'll tell me he doesn't think I'm a bad person, and he'd be willing to take the risk, he'd want to be with me, despite the fact I could hurt him at any moment, and I can't take that risk, I can't. I've seen Brochan's face at the hospital, and I've seen the bruises on your arms, it's time for it to stop, I can't add Ryan to the list of people I've hurt.”

“You push him away because you're scared of beating him? Brendon you can't even know if it'll ever happen, any of us could beat someone at some point in our lives, we can never know, we can't avoid doing things we want to, simply because there is a possibility for it to go wrong and for us to mess up,” she scoffs and shakes her head, “I can't believe you're willing to let Ryan go for that.”

“Maybe I killed my parents, maybe I killed Spencer too, I beat up Brochan and I held you far too tight, I hurt everyone Aelyn, that's a fact, it's not just a tiny possibility that's crippling, it's a huge one, it'll happen at some point and I can't let it happen, I have the power to prevent it from happening, and so I will.”

“The police dropped their suspicion on you for your parents' case, and as for Spencer, they didn't even come talk to you about it, so if you would be guilty, you'd be in deep shit right now,” she sits on the edge of the bed, “you stopped, when you held me and I told you you were hurting me, you stopped, automatically, I didn't have to say it twice, and it's honestly all that matters to me about what happened.”

“But what if I don't stop next time? Or what if I do stop but not before throwing a punch or something like that? It might not be easy for you to see it from my point of view, but I feel like a ticking bomb, and I don't know when I'll explode nor what the damage will be when it'll happen. That's why I came here in the first place, to protect both of you from me, then I found you on my doorstep and, I don't know, for a second I thought maybe I didn't have to stay in exile. Then yesterday happened with Ryan, our walk in the woods, last night, and when we woke up and he told me he loved me, everything came back to me.”

“You left, again,” she pauses, looking at random spot on the floor, “without a note, at least the first time you left one, but this time you didn't even bother. That's not how you protect the ones you're supposed to love.”

Suddenly it ticks in Brendon's head, when Aelyn told him he didn't see what he did as wrong since he did it twice and he didn't know what she could have been talking about, he thought it was him being violent but she had said herself it wasn't. She was talking about him driving away, and _that_ is what she is so upset about, _that_ is why she doesn't want to talk to him, unless it's to yell at him about hurting Ryan.

“Ryan told me you started being pissed when you guys realized I left, you're upset because I drove away? That's what you were talking about when you said I didn't think it was wrong since I did it twice?”

“I don't want to talk about that.”

“Well I do,” he states as if it was the only thing that mattered, “why are you upset about it? I mean, I get that you and I created a nice relationship in the past few months but I thought you wouldn't want to see me after what I did and I-” he sighs and licks his lips, “I don't know.”

“Well you thought wrong, I didn't want you to leave, I didn't want you to abandon me a second time,” her eyes are watery and Brendon wants the ground to swallow him whole, first Ryan now Aelyn, he's made everybody cry today, even himself, and it's not even noon yet, “once was enough, but it doesn't seem to matter anyway.”

“Aelyn, you hated me, I thought you would have danced around the house when I left the first time.”

“Well, I did not,” she crosses her legs and takes a deep breath, “I thought you left because of me, because of how shitty I had been to you ever since what happened to your parents, and my parents blamed me for it too, at least for a while. For the umpteenth time, I didn't hate you, but wherever we went, everyone loved you so much, talking about how smart you were, how you could go places, how cute of a kid you were. Every single person we met loved you, and you loved every single one of them, it was your thing, being social, you loved interacting with people and they loved interacting with you. But I was not like that, no one paid attention to what I was doing,” tears starts streaming down her face, “not when I was first of my class in elementary school, not when I won a drawing contest against middle schoolers at the age of nine, no one gave a damn, no one but me. I wanted you to feel the way I felt, and that's how it went past a simple childish quarrel,” she shrugs as if it explained everything, “I wanted to be like you, so, so bad, but I've never been able to. And then when your parents died you moved in with us, and all the attention was on you once again, and I felt like you stole my parents in some way. I should have danced after you left, but I didn't because the second I realized you were gone, I felt something break inside,” she stops speaking abruptly, choked up.

Brendon sits on the bed besides her, feeling uncomfortable both from her opening up like that and crying, and him sitting there only wearing his underwear, “you never told me that.”

“It's not exactly the first thing you think about telling someone,” she clears her throat before speaking again, “when you left the other day, it hit me ten times harder than the last time, when I saw your empty apartment I felt like I was dying, and I'm not even an hyperbole.”

“I'm sorry,” he hesitates for a minute, unsure if he should pull her into his arms or not, “I didn't leave because of you, I left because your parents didn't come to my graduation and it was the straw that broke the camel's back for me. It's pretty ironical because I felt like _you_ were the one getting praised all the time and this kind of stuff, and you always brought up what you did and that's why I hated you so much. Also because you put itching powder in my pants at a family gathering and my father was two seconds away from killing me for scratching my butt and balls in front of the family.”

Aelyn laughs brightly at the memory, “I remember that, it was one of my finest moments, you have to admit it.”

“It was, but not from the perspective of a twelve-year-old boy scratching his crotch repeatedly in front of the entire close family,” he points out, wrapping an arm around Aelyn's shoulders, “I don't ever promise anything because promises always end up being broken anyway, but, I promise you I'll never drive away again.”

“You don't have to promise me that, if you want to be forgiven, don't hurt Ryan, don't break his heart, especially not if you love him back, I understand your fear but it's not worth it, it's not worth dropping your chance with the most beautiful person on earth. See? Even Ryan loves you.”

“I know you've been in love with him, so it must feel like I steal someone from you, just like you felt with your parents, but he loves you more than I've ever seen anyone loving someone,” he pulls her against him and she doesn't try to push him away, instead she snuggles closer against his cool skin.

“Thanks for pointing it out,” she mumbles, “I'm not in love with him anymore so I'm not hurt by it, but it pisses me off to see how much he loves you and to know that you love him too and to have to witness you not wanting to take your chance with him for a stupid reason. Granted it doesn't seem like a stupid reason to you but still. If it ends up not working then so be it, but at least you would have tried.”

“I'll think about it I promise,” he kisses the top of her head holding her closer to him, “I missed you, and I truly am sorry I hurt you, I had no idea I did, you have to admit that with the relationship we had it wasn't obvious that you didn't want me to leave.”

“I know, I missed you too, no matter what happens to you don't ever leave again.”

“I'll probably end up in jail in the next few months for a long time, so in a way I'll leave you again, but this time it won't be my decision but the judge's.”

“I won't let you go to jail,” she sits up straight, out of Brendon's grip, “I'll find a solution, you won't get there, I won't let anyone lock you away.”

“Ryan told me he'll tell his mom to be my lawyer, apparently she's really good at what she does, but- I can't stay unpunished, if the sentence for this kind of crime is ten years then it means that it deserves ten years, if I get less, will justice be dispensed?”

“Yes it will, you'll get a sentence, therefore justice will be dispensed but we have to work to get you the shortest sentence possible,” just like that she goes back to her normal self, vigorous, and enthusiastic, “and Ryan's mom isn't good at what she does,” she pauses dramatically, “she's the _best_ at what she does, she's been an active lawyer for over thirty years now and she only lost one case. If someone can find a way to get you the shortest sentence, it's her.”

“You still have faith in me?”

“Always,” she throws herself on Brendon toppling the both of them on the bed, they both laugh brightly, Aelyn rolling off of Brendon, “it's weird to lie down here.”

“It's been forever since the last time you lied in this bed, so I get the feeling.”

“There's also the fact that you and Ryan had sex in this bed no earlier than last night.”

Brendon can't help but blush in discomfort, “we made love, it's different.”

“Oh, is it? Really?”

“Yes,” he says firmly, “I see sex and making love as two different entities, it's two completely different feelings.”

“Not like I would know anyway,” she laughs softly tilting her head to the side to look at Brendon besides her, “it must be weird to touch someone when they're naked, and kiss their bodies and- it must be really weird.”

“It is at first, at least it was for me,” he tilts his head and looks back at her, “but afterwards, want overcome that feeling of weirdness and it's just pure pleasure. But for someone who doesn't feel that kind of want it just stays weird and uncomfortable, all the time.”

“It does, I feel like I'm missing on something though, like, everyone I know, knows what lust is like and I don't,” she half-pouts, “I'm the outsider.”

“I think it's inevitable to feel like that when you don't feel the same way as the majority of people, you feel like an outsider, and as if something's messed up in you. But there's nothing wrong with feeling differently than people you're surrounded by, there are plenty of things you feel that most people don't and you don't think something's wrong with them.”

“Like perceiving every shades of any color? And knowing their names?” Brendon nods and she smiles, again, for the first time since she arrived, “I guess you're right, I'd just like to know what it's like to feel like that, at least once.”

“Lust or intercourse?”

“Lust, having sex without wanting it is not right, it's forcing yourself to do something just for the sake of being normal and I don't see the point of it.”

“True,” he stays silent for a minute, reflecting, “lust is wanting to be as close to someone as you can be, whether it's their body that make you want that or them as a whole as well. It's like touching the softest cuddle toy ever, you run your fingers on it and you can't get enough of it, can't get enough of the softness. It's a bit like that but with a real person,” he knows that if he explains it with something she knows about she'll understand better.

“It kind of makes me regret not to feel it,” she laughs lightly.

“You feel love though, and it's so much more intense than lust.”

“Yeah, but people aren't satisfied with love, they need lust too.”

“Something happened with Laurence?” he asks cautiously.

“We're just not together anymore,” she shrugs, “he's a nice man, really, but he needed more of me than I was willing to give him and it's not fair to ask him to do that sacrifice for me, just like it wouldn't have been fair for him to expect sex from me. So we decided it was better to part ways.”

“It's probably the most mature break up story I've ever heard. Don't worry though, you'll find someone who doesn't _need_ sex and you'll be able to have a long lasting and beautiful relationship with them.”

“I know I will, it's just that it'll take quite a lot of failed relationships to get there, and it's frustrating.”

“It is. But it'll be worth it, and I'll support you through all of them, no matter where I am when it happens,” he pokes her nose and she laughs brightly.

She stops abruptly when they hear a loud noise coming from downstairs, they stand up quickly and run downstairs, Brendon, once again, forgetting to put clothes on. Another loud noise echoes, audibly coming from the kitchen, they rush to the kitchen space and see Ryan lying on the floor a few cans and boxes spread next to him. Aelyn can't help but laugh at the sight, confusing Brendon who could have had a heart attack seeing Ryan lying there.

“Ryan, you scared me, you're such a clumsy little human being, you know that?”

“Yes I do know that,” he stands up with a small smile and picks up the cans and boxes from the floor, “sorry for the scare.”

“One of those days you'll drop a heavy can on your head and you'll get a concussion and you'll look real dumb at the emergency of the hospital, I'm sure even the doctors would laugh at you.”

“Stop making fun of me,” once the cans are back in the cupboards, Ryan turns to face Aelyn, only now noticing Brendon is also standing there, in his underwear. His face drops and the atmosphere feels suddenly heavier than it was a second ago, he avoids looking at Brendon and leaves the room to go back upstairs.

“I'll go talk to him,” Aelyn says breaking the silence, Brendon nods and lets her follow Ryan.

 

***

 

“Knock, knock,” Aelyn says softly, opening the door of the bedroom Ryan hid in, he's sitting on the bed, cross-legged, staring at the window, immobile like a statue, “are you meditating again? I thought you grew out of that awful hippie phase you went through years ago.”

“Ha ha,” he fakes a laugh, “I am not meditating, I am just- not doing a thing, looking at the scenery through the window even though it does not bring back pleasing memories, at least not pleasing now.”

She steps in, close the door behind her to sit on the bed next to Ryan and stare out the window with him, looking at the trees encircling the lake, “Ryan, you can't hide forever you know.”

“Says the girl who hid in a bedroom the second we arrived and refused to come out. I thought you were upset with him and now you are friendly with him again?” he doesn't turn to face her as he speaks.

“I know I did, but being upset is different from being broken hearted, you cried earlier, and maybe you don't want to talk about it but you never cry, love, you never do.”

“It does not matter, I should have been smarter, I should have known he did not love me, but even looking back I do not see any signs of his lack of love for me,” he sighs and Aelyn has to try extra hard not to tell him that Brendon loves him, it's not her place to say that.

She takes a hold of his hand and laces their fingers, “you can't ever know for sure, I know you're used of seeing things in others' behaviors but you can't always do that. It's a complicated moment in Brendon's life, maybe when all of this will be over with and behind everyone, you two will be able to construct a solid relationship. You're an angel on earth Ryan, he can't not love you.”

Ryan finally takes his gaze off of the window and turn his attention to his friend sitting next to him, “you are always praising me, what did I do to deserve you?”

“I'll always praise you, you're beautiful, you're smarter than anyone I've ever met, you're sweet, you're clumsy to the point where it's funny, you're talented in everything you do, and yes you are an amazing writer whether you believe it or not. Most importantly you're my best friend, and you've been holding my hand through every single rough time I've had to go through, you always supported me even when it wasn't easy. So yes I will praise you,” she kisses Ryan's knuckles, holding his hand tightly, “if God exists, he managed a perfect score with you.”

“No one is perfect,” he rolls his eyes before chuckling, “I love you, I am pretty sure no one paid attention to my band playing at your prom but I am glad you out of all those kids listened to me. Life would not have been the same without my little princess to praise me.”

She laughs quietly and rests her head on his shoulder, keeping a firm grip on his hand, “you'll be okay? And I mean honestly not the bullshit you feed to people when you don't want them to worry.”

“I never feed you bullshit, I am not going to start now, I will be okay, but it will be hard to see Brendon after what happened, it would be easier for me to go back to Las Vegas but I want to help him and I want to be there for him. I truly do care about him,” he leans his head against Aelyn's, “and no one ever died of a broken heart.”

“He cares about you too, he felt his heart crush when you started crying.”

“I think I scared him, we- uhm, we kind of were in a bubble when we woke up and he was so beautiful with the morning light behind him, making his pale skin glow and- I could not help it, I blurted out that I loved him. He did not expect it and I think it scared him.”

“Like I said, give it time, when things will calm down for Brendon it'll be easier for him to consider a relationship, trust me, priority on cleaning this big mess he's in, then if you want to be disgustingly adorable with him we'll see how to make that happen okay?”

Even though Aelyn can't see it, Ryan sticks his tongue out, “and then we will take care of finding someone worthy of being in a relationship with my beautiful princess.”

She laughs softly, causing Ryan's head to shake slightly, “it'll be easier to clean Brendon's mess than find someone for me, so it says a lot on the difficulty of that task.”

“You are worth so much it will be hard to find someone who meets up to that level of greatness, that is true.”

“Look at you being the one praising me now.”

“I am,” he pulls away to smile at her, “you deserve nothing less.”

“I love you to pluto and back,” she smiles back at him before standing up, holding her hands out towards Ryan.

“I love you just as much,” he grabs her hands and let himself be pulled up to a standing position, “you expect me to go downstairs huh?”

She nods, “you can't hide in here forever, plus we're in the middle of nowhere, what will you do in this room all by yourself? You don't even have a book to keep you compagny, we can all watch a movie in the living room, certainly a Disney movie because I don't think my family left any other dvds here.”

“Would it not be awkward to sit there after I told him I loved him and got shut down?”

“It will, but it'll be less awkward if I'm sitting there with you, and we'll watch a movie, we don't necessarily have to talk, just sit there and enjoy the movie, nothing more, nothing less. And if it's too unbearable for you, you can still come back here and mourn on the bed.”

“Fine, I will make an effort for you,” he resigns himself and pulls her against him, and whispers in her ear, “thank you.”

She pulls him closer, wrapping her arms tightly around his small waist, “you don't ever have to thank me for anything, I'm your best friend Ryan, it's my job to make sure you feel okay, and it's also my job to support you through everything, no matter what it is.”

“Still, thank you, you are amazing,” he kisses her temple tenderly before pulling back, “let's go downstairs and watch that movie shall we?”

 


	18. Chapter 18

“We need a plan to help Brendon out of the mess he's put himself in,” Aelyn announces in all seriousness, leaning her elbows on the kitchen counter.

“It is ten past eight in the morning, it is far too early to think seriously about such a subject, let us wake up completely before we start talking about a plan,” Ryan mumbles in response, lazily munching on a half-burn toast.

“It's never too early to save someone's future, but go on, eat your toast I'll just wait here until you guys are ready to do something else rather than sit on your asses all day and wait for things to happen.”

“Why are you so vigorous this morning anyway?” Brendon asks.

“Because we need to have a tiny portion of this mess in order before we call Ryan's mom to take care of your case, we need to know what to do, and it's out of the question that I do a brainstorming with Annie. She'd think by herself and block out any suggestions coming from outside.”

“But still she would listen to what we say with one ear and then proceed to pretend it was her idea all along,” Ryan continues, “my mom is a lovely person as you can see,” the sarcasm in his voice is so obvious, Brendon can't help but turn to stare at him.

“Which is exactly why I want to do a brainstorming before calling her, and lay out a plan so that we know where we are going.”

“None of us are lawyers so how are we supposed to lay out a proper plan?” Brendon points out.

“Well,” Aelyn leans her chin on her hand, frowning as she reflects, “you don't remember attacking my father so we can use that in your favor.”

“Or it'll just make it worse just like it always does when you're guilty of a crime and you keep saying you're innocent, the judge ends up being more severe than if you just admit to your crime,” both Aelyn and Ryan looks at him with their eyebrows raised, “what? Have you never watched Law & Order?”

“Okay you've got a point, but it's more a form of amnesia than you lying, because you truly don't remember what happened that night, right?” she waits for Brendon to nod before continuing, “so it's not you pretending to be innocent but you not remembering what the hell happened that night, it's different right?”

“Well,” Ryan sits straighter on his stool, “if you take Law & Order as a reference it is approximatively the same in the eyes of the law, playing the card of amnesia equals claiming you are innocent. In that way, I am not sure it is a good idea to put amnesia on the table.”

“Claiming you're innocent is lying, amnesia is not, it's a psychological matter, it's very serious and it's not lying because Brendon doesn't say he didn't do it, he just says that he doesn't remember doing it, well actually, he remembers doing something else.”

“Unless there is a way to prove scientifically this is a case of amnesia, no difference will be made at the court and that is a hundred percent certain.”

“That's why we need your mom, we're not lawyers, if there is a way to prove the amnesia thing then she will know, it's common for lawyers to work with psychologists, so if she's as good of a lawyer as you told me Aelyn, she definitely worked on a case that needed the help of a psychologist so she'll know.”

“I will call her,” Ryan sighs and stand up to go to the landline phone, leaning against the wall as he waits for his mother to pick up the phone, when it starts taking too long, he glances at the clock next to the fridge to make sure it isn't too early. As if she heard what happened in Ryan's head, his mother picks up almost instantly, “hello mother, how are you doing?” he asks trying to sound casual before asking for her help.

“I am doing well, what do you want from me? If you need money, you know it's not a problem for me, I'll gladly help you, but I demand you tell me what you need it for, since last time, you spent it irresponsably.”

Ryan sighs and roll his eyes, already wanting to hang up, “you landed me a hundred dollars and I bought an old typewriter with a hole in it because I could not afford better and did not want to ask you for too much money. And I think I need to remind you it was ten years ago, so maybe you should get over it, I am not telling you what to do but it would be a good idea, just a suggestion.”

“Still, it was irresponsible of you young man, now tell me, what do you want?”

“Why can I not call my mother without wanting something from her?” he asks and even him knows how ridiculous it is to ask this, he would never call his mother if it wasn't to ask her something, or wish her a happy mother's day and birthday.

“I notice you still have humor, you're not a complete stuck up, listen, I didn't recognize the number so if you call me from jail and expect me to get you out of there you better have a good excuse.”

“No mother I am not in jail, but I do need your help about something similar to that.”

She sighs and Ryan's certain she's rubbing her temple right now, just like she always do when she's annoyed by what Ryan says or do, “tell me.”

“You remember the man you talked to on the phone when you called for your dog the other day? Well, he is in trouble, and you owe me a favor for keeping your dog in my appartment the entire weekend, he needs a lawyer, and he can not afford one.”

“You've always loved that kind of men, some things never change I guess, is the investigation lead by the local police station?” Ryan hums and she goes on, “I will go get the file and start working on a defense, I will need to talk to him though, which is pure logic, so you guys should come home.”

“Actually, we are in vacation right now and-”

“Are you kidding me? He's in need of a lawyer, one like me, so he must be in deep shit, and you guys are going on vacation? You must be joking. Are you aware he can't leave the state before the day of the trial at the court?”

“We are in Stateline, we are still in Nevada, all I was saying is that we would like it better if you would come here instead of us going back to Las Vegas, that is all.”

“I'll come as soon as I know more about the case, in the meantime send me a text with the address of where you are and your boyfriend's name.”

“I will.”

“Good.”

“Mother?” he asks shyly.

“Son.”

“Thank you.”

“You'll thank me when your boyfriend will be out of trouble, I love you.”

“Me too,” is all he says before hanging up, he sighs and goes back to sit on a stool, ignoring the two pair of eyes that are on him.

He knows Brendon needs his mother's help, and he accepts that, but it doesn't mean he's comfortable with the idea of having his mother stay with them for a few days. He didn't have to spend more than a few hours with her in the past decade, and he was perfectly fine with that, he's not too keen of seeing it change.

 

***

 

Ryan is sitting on the couch, watching the television when Brendon comes in to sit next to him on the couch, leaving more space than would be acceptable for two persons in good terms. Aelyn left an hour ago to go and see if she could find a store to buy a couple of sweaters to be warmer, or at least that's what she said, Brendon's pretty sure she just wanted to leave Ryan and him alone. It's definitely something Aelyn would do but it feels awkward, the situation isn't unbearable but mostly because they didn't spend time alone since the other morning.

Ryan doesn't move, doesn't even glance at Brendon sitting there, concentrating on the movie playing on the television, Brendon sighs and turns to his side, staring at Ryan's profile in hope he'd feel his eyes on him and give him his attention. He doesn't.

“I'm sorry,” the words barely come out due to the lump in his throat, “I didn't mean to break your heart, you're an amazing man, you're smart and beautiful, you make me laugh and you always know what to tell me, and God,” he sighs, “when you look at me I feel like a godlike figure, and when I look at you I see you in the exact same way.”

Slowly, Ryan's attention divert from the movie to Brendon's words, but still he doesn't turn to face Brendon and for the first time he doesn't really know what to say, “you do not have to feel forced to tell me those things to soothe my heart, it does not work, in fact, it has the opposite effect.”

“I'm telling you what I feel, because I don't want you to believe there is something wrong with you and that it's the reason why I don't love you back, you're one of the most perfect person I've ever had the chance to meet, and I met a lot of people.”

“Are we seriously having a 'it's not you it's me' kind of conversation? I do not want to hear it,” he looks down at his lap fiddling with the hem of his shirt, Brendon moves slowly and lie down on the couch, resting his head on Ryan's lap so that he finally looks at him.

“Hey,” he whispers when Ryan lifts his gaze back up towards the television, “it's just that I don't want you to think you're anything else than perfect.”

“I am not perfect and it would not make sense that you do not love me if I were to be perfect, now let me watch that movie.”

“You are,” he presses a soft kiss on Ryan's stomach through his shirt, “you're perfect to me, and one must be out of their mind not to love you.”

He finally looks down at Brendon, still lying on his lap, “so you are out of your mind.”

“I am,” he nods, “and in more ways than one, so you should be relieved I'm not in love with you, I can't hurt you, you get to be safe.”

“Why do you associate you loving me with me getting hurt?”

“Because that's how it goes, if I love someone I end up hurting them, and I wouldn't stand hurting you, so it's a good thing I don't love you.”

“Stop reminding me you do not love me!” he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath before opening them again, “you are not in love with Aelyn nor with Brochan, yet you have hurt them, so if you love me as a friend you could still hurt me.”

Brendon thought about his situation with Ryan a thousand times and yet he didn't think of it that way, Ryan's right, whether Brendon is in love with Ryan or not doesn't matter, he could still hurt him if he stays anywhere near him.

“I didn't think of it like that,” he sits back up and hug his knees, “I don't want to hurt you, I already broke your heart thinking it would keep you safe and turns out it was for nothing.”

“What?”

“What, what?”

“You said you broke my heart thinking it would keep me safe.”

“I know what I said, what I meant was that- uhm I- I've been mean that morning because I thought it would make you stop loving me and therefore you'd be safe, I wouldn't be able to hurt you. But if we're friends you still have risk to be hurt by me, so the only way to keep you safe is to stop being your friend, but selfishly, I don't want to lose my best friend.”

“Babe, uhm, Brendon, if you ever beat me, I promise you I will stop you even if it means I have to beat you back, I will not let myself be hit without doing anything, you can be certain of that, I may be scrawny but I know how to defend myself. So can you stop worrying about that and, be my friend?”

“Just your friend?”

“Well, I think you made it clear you do not want more so, yes, just a friend. But next time when a guy asks if he can make love to you, tell him beforehand that it is just sex to you, it will prevent drama and,” his voice gets quieter, “heartbreak.”

“I've had sex for sex a countless amount of times, and what we shared that night wasn't just sex, it was way more powerful than that, it just meant more to you than to me, it doesn't mean it meant nothing to me,” he tries his best not to spill the truth, that he lied about not being in love with him, not wanting to be with him, because he can't do that to him. Ryan has risks to get hurt by being his friend but it's still less than if they were to date, at least that's what he tries to tell himself, to feel better about keeping Ryan in his life.

“But you said-”

“I know,” he cuts him off, knowing he was about to remind him he said it was only about getting fucked, when it wasn't, at all, “like I said, I tried to be mean to get you to stop loving me, so I lied about that. I spent a magical night with you and I think I have to thank you for that.”

“Making love without love is quite odd do you not think?”

 _Shit_ , Brendon thinks, _he knows._ He said too much to get Ryan to feel better and now his lie is about to be discovered and it's not dramatic but then he won't be able to make Ryan think rationally and he won't drop it until Brendon becomes his boyfriend.

“It's not necessarily, if one is in love and the other one is fascinated.”

“Fascinated? Really?” a small smile forms on Ryan's lips, seeming amused, “that is a weird choice of word.”

“No it's not, everything about you is fascinating from the way you talk to the movements of your hips when-” he trails off, “you're fascinating.”

“The movements of my hips when what?” Ryan asks playfully, feigning ignorance.

“Don't.”

“What? I just want to know, tell me.”

“The movements of your hips when you thrust into me,” he mumbles, “happy?”

Ryan laughs lightly and pokes Brendon's arm, “you could have put more enthusiasm into it, but yes I am happy.”

“So, do you forgive me for the way I reacted the other day?”

“I understand the reason why you tried to be meaner than you truly are, and you can not choose whether you love me or not, so yes I forgive you. I can not stay bitter about my broken heart forever can I? And you do not need that right now anyway, you need support, and I am here to give it to you, I care about you.”

Brendon throws himself onto Ryan, wrapping his arms tightly around him, it doesn't take more than a second for Ryan to hold Brendon by the waist, pulling him closer against him, “thank you,” Brendon whispers.

Once he pulls away, Ryan kisses his cheek softly before leaning against the backrest of the couch, “my mom is going to fix this for you, you know.”

“I hope she does,” he nervously plays with the collar of Ryan's shirt, “talking about your mom, you sounded tensed on the phone with her this morning and I didn't dare to ask then but I do now, is everything okay with your mom? I know it's not my business, I'm sorry.”

“No it is fine, I ask about things that are not my business all the time, and you always answer, so it is only fair that it is my turn now,” he let his head drop on the backrest of the couch and stare at Brendon's lips for a moment before speaking again, “I love my mom and I know she loves me too, it is just that we both expect more from the other than what we get.”

“You have different personalities so you can't always get along, it's normal.”

“I would say we are too similar to get along, at least to some extent, after high school I started writing more, and I made new friends who were writers as well, they were rich kids, and I was not, at least not as rich as them and mother did not like who I became after that. It is ironical because up until I graduated she pressured me to be more acceptable for her rich friends, and the second I got a bit more let's say, sophisticated,” he air quotes with his fingers, “she told me I was a stuck up, and coming from the person who wants me to call her 'mother' it is quite hypocritical, do you not think?”

“It is. Is that when you started banning contractions from your way of speaking?”

“When I met the rich kids?” Brendon nods, “no, it started as a way to remember how to spell correctly, when I was about ten, then I started to read a lot and I wanted to speak the right way, not the way kids at school were speaking. Language is beautiful if you use it properly. My classmates liked to tell me how odd I was, but I did not care,” he pauses then adds, “most of the time.”

“So why did your mom got upset after you got rich friends?”

“To be fair, I told her she did not understand us writers almost every day, as if by being a writer I was above her, when I was not, and it is clear when you see where I am now and where she is. I got into various illicit substances and it changed me, I started acting like I was the smartest person in the world simply because I was writing. Then my group of friends kicked me out when I could no longer pay for my own doses, I had no other choice than to stop which happened to be harder than I would have thought. Mother paid so that I could get help, but she never forgave the way I treated her during that year.”

“It's hard to think of you as a condescending person when you tend to belittle everything you do now, and for your information, just because you're correcting grammatical errors in books doesn't mean you didn't succeed. And you could get published if you wanted to.”

“You sound like Aelyn, Richard has won the most important literary prizes in the United States, each book he has written has been bestsellers, he knows what he is talking about, and if he thinks my writing is not worth more than a column in a student journal, then it is exactly that and I can not argue against that, nor can you or Aelyn.”

“He's not a God, it's a matter of opinion, get other important writers to read what you wrote, you can't stop writing because of one negative review.”

“It is not one negative review, it is _the_ negative review,” he says slowly as if Brendon didn't understand what he was trying to tell him.

“J.K Rowling got told off by so many publishing houses before one finally gave Harry Potter a chance, if she would have stopped writing after that, if she would have given up, she wouldn't have known all this success. And millions of kids wouldn't have grown up with this universe that made them dream,” he wants to take a hold of Ryan's hand but he refrains, judging it inappropriate, “you could change the life of millions of people but you won't ever know if you stop writing because of one negative review, no matter how good of a writer Richard is, it's still one negative review.”

“And you still think I am the one who knows what to say at all times? You are not bad at it at all either. It is just that I can not write anymore, every time I type a sentence I hate it and erase it, I do not have the confidence to write now.”

“You just have to get used to writing again, keep Richard's opinion out of your mind, write for yourself, and don't let your mind focus on what people will think of it, just write, and it'll be enough.”

“I will try.”

“Really?” Brendon asks brightly earning a nod from Ryan, he snuggles against him and kiss his jaw, “it makes me happy that you'll at least try.”

“Yes, well, not until this mess is cleared up though, I would not be able to concentrate enough if you are in trouble and with my mother staying with us for a little while. I am not too happy about it, to be completely honest, I have not spent more than a couple of hours with her since I moved out of the house.”

“I get how it can make you nervous, but if it can help you relax, remember that you're not completely alone with her, there'll be Aelyn and I.”

“Talking about that, my mother thinks you and I are, more than simple friends, since you picked up the phone at my apartment and I did not tell her we are not-” he pauses, feeling awkward, “boyfriends. Last time I fell for a man who did not reciprocate my feelings it did not go well, and she will think that the story is repeating if I tell her and I am not sure if she will worry but she will not see the situation in a positive way.”

“If you don't want to tell her, I don't mind, I just don't want you to get even more hurt than you already are,” he pulls away from Ryan, leaning against the backrest, his head inches away from Ryan's but still a distance acceptable for two friends, “what happened with that crazy man who didn't love you back?”

“He was not the crazy one,” he laughs emptily, “it is similar to you with Spencer, not what happened between him and I but how you were scared of talking about him, thinking it would make me look at you differently. I do not want you to look at me as if I were a mess.”

“I won't, it wouldn't be my place to judge you, and I lo- care about you too much to do that. You can trust me, the way I can trust you.”

“It happened when I was twenty two years old which at the same time seems forever ago and as if it were yesterday, I was working at a music store at the time, which is how I met my bandmates, and a beautiful man got hired. We had our breaks at the same time so we got to know one another quickly, and I fall fast so it did not take me long to develop a crush on him.”

“What was he like?” Brendon asks genuinely curious.

“He was taller than me, blond and had beautiful blue eyes, the exact same color of the ocean on a bright summer day, he had an intense gaze as well, so it was easy to get lost in them when talking to him,” he smiles fondly as if he remembered good memories.

“Sounds like an handsome man.”

“He definitely was,” he sighs and stares a spot on Brendon's shirt, “it quickly turned into more than a simple crush, and I started wanting to get his attention and affection, but he made it clear that he was not into that sort of stuff, so I got upset and convinced myself I could change his mind,” he takes a deep shaky breath before going on, “when it became clear that he was very much straight and I could not ever change his mind, I started to harrass him, send texts at any time, including in the middle of the night, calling him again and again. He ended up having sex with me, hoping that if he gave me what I wanted, I would have left him alone, his plan did not work out the way he wanted it to. It only got worse, to the point where I would have accepted anything from him if it meant he would love me back, I even put up with a lot of insults because I thought that if he took the time to insult me it meant he cared,” a single tear rolls down along his cheek, barely noticeable but Brendon notices, “Aelyn got me fired so that I would not have to see him anymore, and she got me to go to a therapy, which was not an easy task. I pretended to forget my appointments a dozen of times before I actually went to one, but she put up with me and supported me.”

“What happened to that guy? Have you ever seen him again?”

“No, but I wrote him a long letter to apologize for my behavior and wish him the best for the future, he never replied, but at least I apologized and left him alone, which is what he wanted since the beginning.”

“You know what? I'm glad you told me all that, and it doesn't change the opinion I have of you,” he takes one of Ryan's hands in his own, holding them tight, “you're still the perfect human being I met months ago.”

“Perfect with a lot of imperfections then, it could happen with you, I know it will not, because my therapy worked well and I know what lead me to behave that way, but it would be justified if you would be scared the story repeats itself with you.”

“I trust you, and even though I broke your heart, I still want to take care of it while it's mine,” he kisses Ryan's knuckles softly, “I won't treat you the way that guy did.”

“I do not blame him for the way he treated me, I did not have the best behavior myself, he lost patience after a while and it is normal.”

“I can understand that he lost patience, but having sex with you knowing you had feelings for him clearly wasn't the best move he could have done, it was pretty shitty of him.”

Ryan laughs softly but it sounds like anything but a genuine laugh, “sure, it is not as if you did the exact same.”

Brendon goes silent, he doesn't know what to say to defend himself, the situation is similar from Ryan's perspective but there's still a major difference, “I did not do it just so you would leave me alone, I did it because I genuinely wanted it.”

“Still, you have had sex with a man you do not love knowing he had feelings for you, granted you did not know I was in love yet, but it is pretty self-explanatory when I ask if I can make love to you.”

 _But I do love you_ , Brendon yells inside his head, “stop wording it like that,” he says out loud before realizing he wasn't talking in his head anymore, “I already told you it meant something to me, what we shared that night, just not the same as it meant to you, so can you stop acting like I'm heartless and took advantage of your love or something like that?”

“I did not want to upset you, all I am saying is that the situation is similar, I know it meant something to you, you already told me, but it still did not mean the same for both of us. I praised your body and could not get close enough to you, I wanted to feel your body against every single inch of mine, you were the only thing in my head. The only thing I smelled, the only thing I was aware of, as if we were floating in the air, I could not process anything that was not you, and did not want to either. It was overwhelming. _That_ is what it meant to _me_.”

“Ry-” the following words get stuck in Brendon's throat, Ryan smiles at him fakely and turn his attention back to the television where another movie has now started. He goes to add something, anything, but when he opens his mouth nothing comes out, so he just sit here staring at Ryan's profile, knowing full well that he's not really paying attention to the movie.

The door bursts open and catch both of them off guard, Aelyn enters barely visible behind all the bags and boxes she's carrying, she kicks the door close and drops everything on the floor in the entryway, with a big smile on her face. Brendon will never know how she manages to find clothes that cost barely anything, wherever she goes, he didn't even know there were clothes stores miles around the cabin.

“I found so many cute outfits that are perfect for autumn weather, and not only for me, if you know what I mean,” she announces brightly.

“Well, I will let you gush over clothes, I have various things to do,” Ryan says, and leaves the room quicker than is usual for him.

Aelyn frowns before crossing her arms and giving a Brendon a stern look, if a look could kill, you can be certain Brendon would have turned into dust by now, “what did you do to him?”

He sighs and run his hand through his hair, “nothing, we spent a good moment together then we came to talk about the night we made love and he got upset since it didn't mean to me as much as it did to him, at least that's what I let him think.”

“You could have thought about it before having sex with him, it would have been easier, especially for him, he would have taken it better before that night.”

“I am not like that guy!” he bursts out before sighing to try and calm down, “sorry.”

“He told you about Dan?” she asks, wide-eyed.

“I suppose we're talking about the same guy so yes, he told me, and I'm glad you got him to get help, because God knows what would have happened otherwise.”

“I didn't do much, just kicked him in the ass, he helped himself, don't let him tell you otherwise and pretend I'm some sort of savior who did all the work, I pushed him to go to the first appointment, the rest, he did alone. I can't believe he told you about that,” she calmly picks up the bags and boxes to drop them again, this time on the armchair next to the fireplace.

“He was scared.”

“I can only imagine how scared he was, even our friend group back in Vegas doesn't know about that, none of them, not even Devonne and she's the closest friend we have besides each other. It's been so long since it happened and he still feels shameful about it, that's why he never talk about it,” she lets herself drop on the couch next to Brendon, “he knows that other circumstances lead him to that behavior but,” she shrugs, “I think he just want to forget about it now.”

“Other circumstances?”

“Yes, but if he didn't tell you about that, you can be sure I won't be the one telling you, it's his story to tell. If he doesn't ever tell you though, don't be upset, we all have parts of our past that we'd rather not tell, and some things are only known by his therapist, and it'll stay like that.”

“You don't even know about it?”

“Believe it or not, there are some things about him that I don't know and certainly never will,” she laughs, “it's good like that, now excuse me a moment I'll go check on him because let's be real there's nothing important to do here.”

Once she's out of the room, not without pressing a soft kiss to Brendon's forehead on her way out, Brendon slumps in the couch and sighs deeply, things can always get messier than they are.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one took a little longer to arrive and I'm sorry if you were waiting for it but waiting give you the opportunity to appreciate a new chapter even more (at least I think so!) I hope you'll love this chapter, and hopefully the next one will take a little less time to come.


	19. Chapter 19

It's no later than eight in the morning when Brendon is startled out of his sleep by loud banging on the front door, atrociously loud in the peaceful and quiet morning, he groans and turn around in his bed, hiding his head under a pillow. However, the banging doesn't stop and soon Brendon hears Aelyn yelling from the adjoining bedroom for someone to go open the door or else she'd kick both of their asses.

It's not fair that he is the one who has to go answer the door when clearly everyone was awake and could have done it themselves, oh how he wishes he'd still be lying under the warm covers instead of standing in the middle of the freezing living room wearing pyjamas and a thin cotton shirt. During the time it takes him to go from his bedroom to the front door, the banging doesn't stop and it says a lot about the determination of the person standing outside, he hopes it's not some tourist who faced a bear in the woods and ended up being chased. He doesn't even know if there are bears anywhere near the cabin.

When he finally decides to open the door he's faced with a middle-aged woman in a deep red suit holding a briefcase, appearing annoyed, certainly because Brendon took ages to answer the door, she looks at him from head to toe, raising a perfectly plucked eyebrow at him, “I didn't expect you to look like that but nothing is predictable with Ryan anyway,” she says as she pushes past Brendon to step inside, not even bothered to wait for Brendon to invite her to do so.

“Make yourself comfortable, I'll be right back,” Brendon half-chokes out before hurrying upstairs, hoping Ryan's mother doesn't notice the hurry in his step and see him leave completely normally.

Once upstairs he lets out a heavy sigh before heading to Ryan's bedroom, he's lying in bed, tightly wrapped in the covers, and Brendon would stare a bit more and let him imagine himself pressed against him under the warmth of the bedsheets but Ryan's mother is standing in the living room.

“Ryan,” he whispers just in case he's fallen back asleep and sits besides him, “wake up you lazy ass, your mom is stan-”

He doesn't even have time to finish his sentence before Ryan sits up abruptly, shoving a pillow off of the bed in the process, Brendon calmly picks it up and put it back up on the bed trying to keep a bit of composure.

“I should have figured out it was her when I heard someone was at the door,” he bites on his lower lip and smoothes down his hair a little bit, “how do I look?”

_Gorgeous,_ he thinks, “you look good don't worry,” he says.

“Great, she will pin point everything wrong with my appearance,” he sighs, “you should eat more you're thick as an asparagus, and for our Lord's sake cut your hair would you?” he says in a feminine raspy voice, Brendon can't help but laugh at that, he stops when Ryan looks at him with big frightened eyes.

“There's nothing wrong with your appearance, you are thick as an asparagus but you wouldn't be you with let's say ten more pounds and your hair is perfect that way, it compliments your features perfectly,” he tucks a strand of hair behind Ryan's ear and let his fingers brush along the side of his neck, “it'll go fine, now let's go downstairs or she'll be even more annoyed than she already seem to be.”

The second they get back to the living room, Ryan's mom walks up to him and pulls him into a tight loving hug, _nothing better than a mom's hug_ , Brendon thinks, looking at them. She pulls away a moment later, holding Ryan at arms length, eyeing him up and down, scanning every little thing about him, as if she were a robot trying to identify if he's a threat or not.

“You should eat more, and God would you cut that hair, you would look more presentable with shorter hair, you look like a hippie like that, like your grandmother when she was young,” she says in the exact same tone Ryan used when he imitated her and Brendon can't help but let out a little laugh. She turns to him, narrowing her eyes intimidatingly, “do you find me funny young man?”

“No,” his voice comes out shaky, he clears his throat and speaks more clearly, “no I don't, I just-” he tries to think of a lie to get out of this situation in one piece, “I just imagined Ryan dressed as a grandma and it made me laugh, sorry ma'am,” he manages to say like a child who did something bad.

“Oh please call me Annie, I'm not _that_ much older than you and I'd like to think I am not an old woman yet,” she lets go of Ryan and places her hands on her hips, “will you boys stop looking at me like I could eat you at any moment? If it's because you two are,” she gestures between the two of them, “I don't care at all, as long as I don't hear anything going on during my stay here obviously.”

Ryan winces, “we would not be irresponsible enough to have intercourses while you are here mother.”

“Great, so now can someone make coffee because we have a lot of work, notably on Brendon's defense, we have to find the part of the case we can stress on to keep Brendon free.”

“I will go make coffee,” he looks at Brendon expectantly, “do you want one too?” he ends up asking when Brendon just stares at him in confusion, and go in the kitchen once he got a nod.

That leaves Brendon alone with Ryan's mother, he doesn't know what to say, a bit like when you're invited over to your friends house when you're a child and your friend has to do something without you so you stay there, awkwardly standing with their mom.

“Maybe we can sit on the couch,” he suggests shyly, to which Ryan's mother nods and immediately go take a seat in the armchair next to the fireplace, maybe they should go pick up wood to make a fire, it would keep the place warmer. Brendon notes it in a corner of his head.

“So, we'll start simply, by talking about what happened that night,” she says formally.

“It's already in the file, I've talked to the police about it.”

“I know,” she says patiently, “but I need to hear from you, oftentimes my clients feel more comfortable sharing details of the events with me than with the police, which is justified since I'm here to save your ass not put you in jail.”

“Well,” he clears his throat, “I was with Ryan at my apartment that evening and Brochan called me because he needed help at the café and Aelyn wasn't answering her phone, so I went there and unpacked boxes while he was doing paperwork.”

She nods, humming, just like the therapists do in movies, and motion him to keep going, so he does, “what I remember is that I left him still sitting at the breakroom's table, and I went back home, and went directly to bed, however the evidences show something else.”

“Exactly, so I need to remind you that you have to have no secrets for me, I'm here to help so there's no need for you to lie to me, actually, it would put your freedom at risk.”

“I know that, I'm not lying, it's genuinely what I remember from that night,” he relaxes a little again when Ryan puts the coffee mugs on the coffee table before sitting besides Brendon on the couch.

She hums again, frowning and taking messy notes on her notebook, “do you remember it vividly?”

“Not really, I remember it happened but it's the same feeling as when you have a memory but you can't pinpoint if it happened in a dream or in reality.”

“Is there anything I should know? Anything that could surface and jeopardize your defense? Your police record is completely blank, but if you have committed minor crimes when you were teenager it doesn't appear there but could still be used against you in court.”

Brendon fiddles with his hands on his lap, “my parents got murdered when I was fifteen, and recently my ex-boyfriend got murdered as well, the police considered me a suspect at the beginning of the investigation on my parents' murder, but dropped it shortly after. I don't remember doing it and I don't think I killed any of them but I don't remember beating Brochan either, and the murderers haven't been found.”

Ryan's mother seems to tense a little but try to remain casual nonetheless, “it can't be used against you if there hadn't been a trial, if they crossed you out of their list of suspects then it can't be held against you. The judge won't accept it an evidence of your potential violent behavior. I'll need you to see a psychologist as soon as possible though, we will need it if we want to bring up amnesia to the court.”

It's Brendon's turn to tense at the idea of seeing a psychologist, “will it be useful? Because in Law & Order the expert assessments aren't always useful.”

“Did I hear you well? Are you actually relying on a stupid tv show rather than on your own lawyer?”

“No, it's just that I'm nervous about this and I don't have any experience to rely on so it's- it's frightening,” he trails off and stare at his lap, feeling a warm hand rub soothing circles on his back, he smiles and lean into the touch.

“Thanks to my son you have one of the best lawyers in the country sitting here to help you so your nervousness isn't justified, at all.”

“Mother,” Ryan chimes in, “he is going through a lot so of course it is overwhelming for him and he gets nervous, he is human, you can not expect him to sit here and tell you every detail you want to know while remaining perfectly calm.”

“If he doesn't want to go through a lot then he shouldn't have beat his uncle and I wouldn't be here trying to save his ass solely because he's screwing my son and he wouldn't be sitting here forced to reflect on his behavior,” she spits out before taking a long sip of coffee, as if she hadn't say anything.

“Shit happens okay? And he is going through a lot because he is convinced he murdered his own parents and his ex-boyfriend based on the fact he attacked his uncle, so be nice with him, and not because we are screwing like you said but because he deserves more respect and certainly more than being treated like an irresponsible child.”

“Oh,” she puts the mug back down on the coffee table rather harshly, “well he-”

“ _He_ is still right there!” Brendon blurts out, breathing heavily, no one dares talking for a moment, Ryan and his mother staring at one another defiantly.

Ryan is the one who breaks the silence, “I am sorry, I was just trying to make the situation go more smoothly for you,” his mother rolls her eyes and decides to go through her notes.

“I'm scared,” Brendon says with a small voice.

“I know, come here,” he hesitates a little before pulling Brendon against him to hold him tightly, trying to create a safe cocoon around him, “my mother is one of the best lawyers of the country, she has been doing this for longer than I have been in this world, she will get you out of trouble and you will remain free, I can promise you that.”

Brendon snuggles closer to Ryan, slightly shaking, whether it is due to his nerves or to the low temperature of the room a complete mystery to the both of them, “don't make promises you can't keep.

“I will keep that one,” he kisses the top of Brendon's head and rocks him from side to side, slowly, “you know I never make promises I will not keep, I am certain I will keep that one because I have faith in you and your case and I believe in my mother too.”

“What a surprise,” Ryan's mother speaks up, “my son believes in me,” she sounds much more relaxed and cheerful than she did a minute ago, Brendon even thinks there's a hint of a smile, “I know how stressful it is to have to face justice, don't think I am never nervous when I go to a hearing but I've won cases that were much, much harder than yours. So we will win.”

“My uncle thinks I murdered my parents, he will bring it up to his lawyer, that's for sure.”

“As I said, it can't be used against you since you've never went through a trial for that case, it can't be brought up, and if it is brought up you can be sure I will remind the judge just that.”

“But I don't remember beating Brochan so what if I happened to kill my parents but simply don't remember, that makes it okay to bring up doesn't it?”

“Listen,” Annie sighs, “if you want to sabotage your own trial that's the best way.”

“I just think we should explore every possibilities, that's all,” he says quietly.

“Mention that to the psychologist they'll help you understand the situation better, see if there is other similarities between how you perceive what happened with your parents and what happened with your uncle. Either way it won't be held against you, you have to give me your trust.”

“I trust you,” he says instantly, “it's myself that I don't trust.”

“You can trust yourself Brendon, don't overthink, now if you excuse me I have a few calls to make to get things going to be sure to have everything ready for the trial,” she takes her mug from the coffee table, her notes and look around, “where can I work?”

Ryan stands up quickly and picks up his mother's bags, “follow me, I will show you,” he glances at Brendon before going upstairs shortly followed by his mother, the clicking noise of her heels echoing until she stops in the room Ryan picked for her. The clicking starts again, a door closes, then another opens and this time the clicking stops.

“I forgot how much of an early bird she is.”

Brendon jumps and almost falls from the couch, caught off guard by Aelyn's tired voice coming from behind him, “you scared me, don't ever do that again.”

“Sorry,” she sits next to him and pat his back, “don't have a heart attack, I'd feel bad about it, at least a little bit,” she laughs brightly when Brendon looks at her with wide eyes, “did she tell you anything about what she's going to do to win? Does she have a plan?”

“She has one,” he nods, “I have to see a psychologist to know more about what's going on in there,” he taps his temple with his index finger, “and prove that I truly don't remember what happened the night Brochan got beaten, at least that I don't remember being the one who did that to him.”

“It's good, the jury won't be able to call a psychologist's expert assesment into question, they're doctors they base everything on facts and observations which is objective unlike regular people who tend to mix their feelings into what they perceive oftentimes.”

“But if they go look inside my head, I'm scared of what they might find in there.”

“That's the scary part, but try to see the bright side of it, if there is something wrong inside your head, at least you'll know, you won't be in constant doubt, and it'll help you feel lighter than you do now. You're scared of hurting people, and if there's something wrong in there, you'll be able to pinpoint a pattern in what leads you to hurt people and it'll help you prevent it from happening again. With a little help,” her words don't seem to make Brendon feel any better, “what's the worst thing that could happen to you? Getting medicines to help you? We're not in the fifties anymore no one will try to fry your brain.”

Brendon's eyes widen at her last words, “oh my God,” he starts shaking so intensely that it's visible even from where Aelyn is sitting at the other end of the couch, his breathing gets heavier and quicker and for a second Aelyn thinks he might faint.

“Brendon, they _will not_ try to fry your brain, seriously the worst thing that could happen to you is getting on medicine, it's really nothing dramatic, calm down,” she goes to rest her hand on his back but he jerks away, “I know you're scared, but listen to me.”

Ryan comes back, scratching the back of his head, clearly pissed off by something his mother has said or done, he stops abruptly in the middle of the living room, and Aelyn knows he can see Brendon shaking from where he's standing.

“What happened?” he asks worriedly, his face paler than a minute ago.

“We talked about him being scared of seeing the psychologist and I told him that the worst thing that could happen would be him getting medicines, and I mentionned that we weren't in the fifties so he doesn't have to worry about shock therapy and he started shaking.”

“Brendon,” Ryan kneels in front of Brendon who's still immobile on the couch, shaking as if it was freezing cold in the living room, “it will not be used on you I promise you, look at me,” Brendon slowly looks up with tearful eyes, “it _will not_ be used on you.”

“It can't,” Aelyn chimes in.

“Actually,” Ryan says looking at Brendon cautiously, “shock therapy is still used, it has evolved since the beginning of it, obviously, but it is still used.”

Aelyn doesn't add anything, she stays still, silent for a moment before standing up to go in the kitchen.

“It is called electroconvulsive therapy and they only do it under anesthesics, you do not feel a thing, it is not like it was in the past, but you are not going to have to go through that, Brendon come on, you have to believe me, if your mental health was that low we would all notice and you would not function normally on a daily basis,” he presses a soft kiss on Brendon's shoulder before pulling him into his arms.”

“What if they decide to use it on me?” he asks barely audibly.

“They will not, God, baby they will not, I will not let them, never.”

“But what if they do? Would you go against the decision of the doctors?”

“There is a thousand ways to try before resulting to electroconvulsive therapy, and I will make sure they try each and every one of them before they put a single electrode on your temples,” he tightens his hold, “I know a lot about psychology so you can trust me about that, your case does not require ECT, so calm down and stop thinking about it.”

“How can I stop thinking about something like that?”

“My mother decided the room I picked for her was not good enough so she decided to take mine after telling me that it was odd of me not to share a bed with you, which is ironical from a woman who does not want to hear any noises from us while she stays here,” Ryan starts explaining without any proper transition, trying to force Brendon to think about things much sillier and unimportant than an eventual ECT.

“I can moan really loud if you want, she won't bother you about that anymore,” he laughs sounding a bit forced but towards the end it becomes a bit more genuine.

“She would probably run away as fast as she can and perhaps puke on her way out, slip on it in the stairs and fall face first on the floor of the living room,” Ryan jokes.

“All the while still hearing my moans, it wouldn't be fun for her.”

“It would be for me,” he clears his throat and sit on the couch, pulling Brendon with him to hold him tightly against his chest, “but Aelyn would join my mother and we would have to pick the both of them in the morning and I would not have the courage to.”

“Hey I hear you!” Aelyn yells from the kitchen, “first you would pick me up, you better,” she continues, coming back in the living room so that she can talk normally instead of yelling, “and second I'd be like the mom in Mean Girls, I'd offer you condoms, and this kind of stuff.”

“Gross,” Brendon says.

“It is, but anything to make sure my boys are satisfied, I wouldn't walk in on you naked and going at it though, I'd only come in if you're making out, I'm not _that_ gross, thank you very much.”

“Except for that one time when we lived together in your apartment,” Ryan points out and Brendon sits straighter, looking between both of his friends questioningly.

“We lived together for a couple of months when he had to get his bathroom fixed and he brought that girl home and I had no idea, so I walked in on a very much naked Ryan, going at it with a gorgeous girl, in my own freaking bed I must point out,” she smacks the back of Ryan's head who starts laughing.

“I could not do it on the couch, it would have been too uncomfortable,” Ryan says in his defense, “and you made me handwash the sheets right after the girl left so you got your revenge.”

“You had sex with a girl?” Brendon asks, as if it was the only thing he had heard.

“After what happened with Dan, I did not do anything with another man, well, until-” he trails off before clearing his throat, “I concentrated on women for a while.”

“A long while,” Aelyn corrects him.

 

***

 

Ryan had planned to go sleep in the remaining bedroom as soon as his mother would have gone to bed, but before it could happen he fell asleep next to Brendon and it seemed right even though it was clearly uncomfortable for the both of them.

Brendon wakes up in the middle of the night, the full moon lighting up the bedroom almost as much as a lamp would, Ryan's back is turned to him, his shoulder moving slowly in sync with his breathing. Brendon stares at the back of his neck intently trying to figure out if he was awake or not, he places his hand on Ryan's back and run his fingers along the fabric of his t-shirt, drawing invisible patterns.

“Ryan?” he whispers so quietly he can barely hear himself, he waits for a moment until he hears Ryan shift and hum, “I can't sleep.”

The ruffling of the sheets seems deafening in the dead silent night, soon enough he's faced with Ryan's tired face, “are you overthinking again?”

“No, I just can't stop toss and turning, it's like when you are so tired that you can't find sleep.”

“Come here,” he pulls him into his arms, allowing Brendon to snuggle closely to his warm body, “relax, you are tense I can feel it,” he presses a soft kiss on the top of Brendon's head, running his fingers through his hair since it appeared to calm him down enough to lull him to sleep last time he did it.

“We're fine then?”

“I am lying here, holding you in my arms, helping you fall asleep, of course we are fine, plus is it not obvious that we are fine? I thought it was clear.”

“I know, it's just,” he sighs and hides his face in Ryan's neck, “I feel bad about hurting you and you didn't have feelings or even sex with a man since this whole mess with Dan and when you finally do it, you get your heart broken once again. It makes me feel even worse.”

“You know in what you are different than Dan?” he waits until Brendon hums to continue, “you apologized and you are my friend, you did not make fun of me or insulted me in any way, yes you hurt me, and you could have thought about how you did not love me before we made love but still, you are better than him.”

“If the psychologist finds something wrong in my head and help me deal with it,” he trails off forgetting what he was meaning to say, Ryan's fingers in his hair starting to make him feel sleepy, he yawns and Ryan kisses his forehead, making sure that Brendon was completely under the covers.

“Shh, sleep now,” he lies more comfortably and close his eyes, “I love you.”

Right before he falls asleep, Brendon slurs something that means _I love you_ in his head but that sounds more like gibberish than anything else.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, I hope you guys enjoy the read and that it was worth the wait, I’d also really immensely appreciate it if you could comment about what you expect to happen in the future for the characters, it might give me inspiration to write the following chapters!
> 
> As I once mentionned I post songs on tumblr and last week’s song is one I wrote as a sort of theme song for the story, so if you could check it out [right here](http://suicidepact.co.vu/post/153522836787/this-tuesdays-tune-is-a-song-i-wrote-during-the) it would be absolutely adorable.


	20. Chapter 20

The following night when all of them are reunited around the kitchen's table for dinner, Ryan's mother decides to break the heavy silence they've been in since they took a seat a moment earlier, to give them the news about Brendon's case.

“So,” she clears her throat even though she didn't need to, but it successfully attracts everyone's attention, “I'll give you the short version, I called the judge and told him about my client needing an expert assessment and he directed me to one who's working in Las Vegas near that awfully conservative church in the suburbs. So I called this psychologist's office and told them it was an expert assessment so that it needed to be done as soon as possible, and of course, I always get what I want in my work so I got you an appointment on Friday at 10.”

“Will they come here or do we have to go back to Las Vegas?” Ryan asks earning a death glare from his mother.

“Guess,” she says coldly, “of course you're going to drive your ass back in Las Vegas, at least for the appointment, then you can do whatever you feel like doing as long as it's legal and within Nevada, clear?”

They all nod, “I'll be there,” Brendon assures her.

“You better, or you'll go to jail. It's not like you have anything better to do anyway, I mean besides my son,” she laughs loudly, apparently proud of her joke while her son looks at her absolutely horrified by what she just said.

Aelyn looks at each of them in confusion, “did I miss something?”

“To do someone means having sex with them, a synonym of fucking,” Ryan explains calmly staring at his plate.

“Oh right, I heard it once in a movie and I didn't know what it meant so Devonne told me and Jacob laughed at me for the most part of the remaining time of the movie, in my defense, it's not that obvious to understand.”

“You just ruined it by explaining it son.”

“Explained or not, it was not funny and was, in fact, disgusting to suggest Brendon might be fucking me while we are here and that it is the only thing he has to do of his days, you are my mother, Mother, you are not supposed to mention that.”

“You should thank me instead, for helping your boyfriend, and accepting that you have a boyfriend, because you know full well that you could have ended up with a far less accepting mother than I am, and not only for your sexuality,” her light-hearted self seems to be gone, in an instant.

“I do not have to thank you for being a decent human being who accepts and understand that their son can love and have sex with whoever he wants, so do not expect me to thank you for that. However, I am thankful that you accepted to be Brendon's lawyer because he needs someone as skilled in their job as you are and for little to no money.”

“You still have that habit of acting like an ungrateful spoiled rotten child and be a loving son the following second, you're a weirdo my child, but as a mother who's judgment is biased, it can be endearing when you don't go too far. Your father was like that too.”

Ryan can't help but smile before taking a deep breath and standing up to hug his mother who remains seated at the table. Brendon turns towards Aelyn for a silent explanation but she's too busy looking at them with heart eyes, the same expression she has when she's watching puppy videos. Apparently, Brendon is the only one who doesn't understand whatever is going on between Ryan and his mother, and why mentionning his father seems to be a silent _I love you_ between them.

 

***

 

The worst thing about sitting in the waiting room of a psychologist's office, is not the appointment you have to go to in a few minutes, but just sitting there, waiting for it. It feels strange, just like it does when you enter a hospital, or a cemetery, you have that unexplainable sensation growing inside of you, you feel ill-at-ease and you just want to leave.

Brendon can't leave though, because he has an appointment that might help to keep him free in precisely seven minutes, if the clock is properly working, which he hopes it does. What is the point of having a clock that doesn't read the right time anyway? A clock is specifically made to read the time, so if it doesn't, there is no point of having one at all.

“Stupid clocks,” Brendon mumbles, getting Ryan to look at him with a raised eyebrow, “nothing just my train of thoughts that got out through my mouth,” he pauses, “do you think their clock is on the right time?”

“Why would it not be? It is a clock, it is made for that.”

“Exactly!” Brendon perks up, “sometimes they're not on the right time though, they're too much ahead or they're late, and it's completely stupid, how are you supposed to know what time it is if the clock itself doesn't inform you properly?”

“Brendon, you need to relax, I know you are nervous, but overanalyzing the cause of clocks will not be of any help, trust me.”

“Telling me to relax is easy when all _you_ have to do is sit here and wait for me to get there and get back out.”

“I know, but I have been in your shoes in the past so remember that I know what you feel like even though in my case the circumstances were different,” he takes a hold of Brendon's sweaty hand and squeeze it softly, “I am here, and Aelyn is too.”

“She abandonned me for the snack machine though,” Brendon tries to joke, “I don't know what I would do without you guys, I know I can be a pain in the ass some- most of the time, but don't think I'm not thankful for your support.”

“How could we think that when you are thanking us every ten minutes?” he presses soft kisses on Brendon's knuckles, holding his hand firmly in his.

Brendon concentrates on the feeling of Ryan's slightly chapped lips on his hand and relax a little before tensing up again when a female voice calls his name from behind him. He takes a deep breath and gazes at Ryan for one more supportive look before following the woman in her office.

Once inside, she motions him to sit on the chair in front of her desk, while she gets her notepad out. Her office's walls are just as bare as the waiting room's which doesn't help make Brendon any more comfortable to be sitting here, he discreetly take a look around the room and her desk in search of any proof he is right to be cautious and scared of her. Nothing; that's what he finds. So, he changes his mind and start looking for signs that he can trust her, like the picture of her with a puppy framed on her desk, or her wide green eyes, or her voluminous black hair, just like his mom liked to comb hers. They look a like in some ways. He just wants to get out of there.

“Mr. Urie,” she starts, “I assume you already know why you are here today but I'll explain to you anyway. I'm Dr. Garett, you are here because your lawyer asked the judge to proceed to a psychological assessment, so he sent her my way to take an appointment for you. Nothing you will say here will leave this office, do you understand?”

Brendon tries to reply but when he opens his mouth no sound comes out so he decides to nod instead.

“I am not representing the law, I am only here to give them my analysis as a psychologist, for them to then decide if you are guilty or not, so you don't have to worry about that. To do that, I'll ask you a few questions, if you don't understand one of them, I can rephrase so don't hesitate to ask. Are you ready?” her voice is soft, Brendon can tell she tries to make him more comfortable, no one would want to work with someone who's tensed like a piece of wood on the seat in front of them.

He nods again and she shuffles on her seat to cross her legs before taking a pen and writing something down already, probably just Brendon's name, at least he hopes so.

“Have you ever had to face violence in any form in the course your life?”

He shakes his head.

“Have you ever had issues with substances?”

He shakes his head again.

“Would you say you have always had the same behavior?”

“What do you mean by that?” he asks almost inaudibly.

“Well for example, were you a trouble child and got calmer over time?”

“I don't know if it counts but I was extremely social when I was a kid, I couldn't stand solitude, I just _had_ to be surrounded, and it changed over time. I still feel the need to be surrounded but it's not constant, I'm more comfortable staying by myself or with a restricted group.”

She nods and hums, taking notes of what Brendon just said, he'd want to know what she's writing but he can't, “can you pinpoint what made that change?”

 _When people you love get killed you tend to not want to socialize anymore,_ he thinks, but he doesn't say it out loud and shakes his head instead.

“Lately, have you had thoughts about harming yourself or other people?” when she sees Brendon hesitating to talk she continues, “I am not representative of the law, Brendon.”

“Yes, myself but not anyone else, in fact, I'm scared of hurting them.”

“In what form have you experienced those thoughts?” she looks at him intently, the kind of look his mother gave him when he was confessing he had done something he wasn't supposed to.

“Nightmares? In the past few weeks I've had nightmares where I commit suicide in various ways, it happens quite often now, and it is so vivid, I actually feel myself dying before I wake up and choke on air.”

She nods slowly while she takes more notes, he's pretty sure she's writing _a complete freak who's suicidal_ on her notepad, but he can't verify that.

“Do you feel guilty for what's happening?” she asks cautiously.

“I thought you didn't represent the law?”

“I am not, but the presence of suicide in dreams can be explained by a strong feeling of guilt, and if it started happening a few weeks ago, it coincides with the time your uncle accused you for beating him up.”

“Or it can mean that I want to die, as simple as that.”

“Do you want to die Brendon?”

He shakes his head, biting his lower lip.

“Do you feel guilty?”

He closes his eyes when he feels tears forming in his eyes and he nods so slightly he doesn't know if the doctor will notice he did. He hears the scratching of a pen sliding on paper, then it stops.

“Why do you feel guilty?”

His heart speeds up instantly, to the point where he's scared it might pop out of his chest, maybe he's having a heart attack, wouldn't he be supposed to hurt in his arm if he was having one? Guess he won't die today and have to talk now, or he could run away, but it would be bad for his case.

“Because I hurt people and then I don't remember it, but they do, at least when they still can. All the evidences are against me in that case, but I remember leaving the café that night, leaving my uncle alive and well, sitting at the table in the break room, I remember I came home and went directly to bed. I truly do remember that night like that, and no matter how hard I try to remember what truly happened I can't,” he bites on his lip, once and hard before speaking up again, “my parents got murdered when I was fifteen, and the murderer has never been found, I don't remember killing them but I might have done it, who knows? And my ex-boyfriend back in Phoenix? I left the apartment we shared and the following day he's been found dead, I remember driving all night but once again, who knows? I feel guilty but I don't know of what, I don't know what I've done and what I haven't anymore.”

She writes for a long moment before speaking again, “have you noticed a difference between a memory from, let's say, the last time you hugged someone and the memory from that night?”

For a second, Brendon's scared she might have read his mind, searching for whatever she needs to then ask him about it and check if he's telling the truth or if he's lying, but she can't do that, can she? “Well, my memories from that night are a bit blurry, I know I've done those things but I don't remember it vividly, a bit like when you can't remember if something truly happened to you or if it was a dream you had one night.”

“Interesting,” she hums, “now can you tell me what happened the day your parents died?”

“We fought that night, over what I wanted to study and we all said things we didn't mean and I went and locked myself inside my bedroom and I didn't come out until the next day when I found them in their bed. My mom cried that night, she thought she was a bad mother, that I didn't love her like I used to when I was a little boy, I heard her talk to my dad behind my door, she cried a long moment,” he tries hard to keep his tears for spilling out but he soon realizes they've been rolling down his cheeks the second the doctor asked her question, “she died thinking I didn't love her, and I think it's the worst part.”

“And would you say those memories are blurry?”

He shakes his head, “if I concentrate enough I can still hear her crying, and I can still feel myself crying too despite being mad at her, and not only because I am currently crying.”

“So the memories of that night aren't similar to the ones you have of the night Mr. Summers got attacked?”

He shakes his head slowly, desperately trying to stop his tears from spilling any more.

“Now, tell me about your memories of when you left your ex-boyfriend?”

Hearing her say it petrifies him, she's a psychologist who works near a conservative church and he casually mentionned he's not straight, “you're not going to write that I'm completely insane because of that, right?”

“Because of what?”

“Because I've had a boyfriend,” he says shyly.

“Oh, oh God no, you're free to do whatever you want with your life, I'm only here to do my job Brendon, I'm not here to judge you in any way. As a psychologist, my role is to be objective in my analysis, and if I wouldn't be able to do just that, I wouldn't have let you come in after seeing you with your boyfriend in the waiting room.”

“He's not my-” he sighs, “I'm sorry, I just got nervous.”

“It's okay, I've seen more nervous than you don't worry, now to go back to what we were talking about, what do you remember from when you left your ex-boyfriend?”

“We fought and he told me he wanted some space and I thought it meant he wanted to break up so I packed what I had and left without saying anything else, I put the boxes in my car and drove until I ran out of gas here. Then when I was unpacking my boxes in my apartment I heard about his death in the news,” he fiddles with his hands, feeling his throat tighten.

“Do you remember how the weather was? Do you remember the last words you two exchanged? Something that could prove that those memories are what happened?”

“It was cold, it's always cold at night, I don't remember what we told each other before I left.”

She hums, taking notes as always, if Brendon wasn't already convinced to be insane he's certain seeing her writing down constantly would make him lose his mind, “how were you feeling that night?”

“Angry? No. I felt,” he pauses, “upset more than anything, we've been together for years, he was my entire world, I only had him, I know it's not healthy to have your entire world revolve around your significant other, but it was like that. He was my best friend, my boyfriend, he was wearing every possible hat. And one day, he decided he didn't want me anymore, as if it was that easy for him to let me down to just get over what we had. So I was upset.”

“You loved him and he hurt your feelings, so you were upset about it?” she rephrases.

Brendon nods slowly.

“Would you say it's possible that your uncle hurt your feelings too?”

“I believe he tries to make efforts when it comes to accepting my sexual orientation but it's not fructuous, and he still makes mean jokes and comments about it. It is possible he made a remark that night but I can't say for sure.”

“Do you love your uncle?”

Brendon nods, “he's not the nicest person, at all, but he was there when I needed him and he did some right in his life, he married Mary and conceived Aelyn. I don't love him as much as I used to but I love him nonetheless.”

She hums and take notes for a long moment spent in complete silence, Brendon looks around trying not to think too much about what the doctor could be writing about him.

When she finally stops writing she stands up and clear her throat, “I have enough to make my assessment, you are free to go,” Brendon stands up, confused, holding his hand out towards her which she shakes firmly, “if you feel the need to come back before your trial know that you are always welcome here,” she says walking him to the door.

“Can I know how it went?” Brendon asks right before the doctor closes the door behind him.

“Not in the immediate, but once I'm done with the paperwork I'll send it to the judge, and the lawyers working on this case, so Mrs. Ross will tell you about it then,” she smiles politely before closing the door, leaving Brendon standing awkwardly in the waiting room.

When he gets out of the office, he finds Ryan and Aelyn sitting on a bench near the main doors, sharing one of the packs of snacks Aelyn bought at a vending machine earlier. As soon as they spot him, they know he cried, and not just a tear or two, without a word they both stand up and Aelyn pulls Brendon in a tight hug before Ryan has the chance to.

Brendon let himself be held, clinging to Aelyn as if his life depended on it, she runs her fingers through his hair, slightly rocking him from side to side, “how did it go?” she murmurs in his ear.

“I don't know,” he begins quietly, “she wrote a lot and didn't say anything that could help me know what she concluded, she just asked questions, wrote and that's it. Does that mean she thinks I'm a freak?”

“No it doesn't, psychologists are like that most of the time, and it wasn't in a therapy setting it was for the court so she can't give out anything before she tells the judge and anyone who needs to get the elements necessary for the trial,” she pulls away but still keep her hands on Brendon's shoulders, “don't over think it, you don't have to be bothered about it until next month when you'll go to your trial.”

“I'll get the results in a few days though, so I will be bothered by it sooner than you think.”

“Just remember that it is not a test that you can or can not pass,” Ryan chimes in, “it is just to see if you have a clinical condition that leads you to forget your outbursts of anger. There is no need for you to overthink it.”

“Now we'll help keep your mind off of unpleasant thoughts, okay?” Aelyn proposes.

Brendon nods slowly and gives them a soft smile.

 

***

 

“I can not believe you convinced us to come here,” Ryan whines, while Aelyn runs around happily collecting various accessories.

After they left the psychologist's office, they wandered around the town for a while, looking for something they could do to keep Brendon's mind busy, Aelyn had suggested they'd go to a build-a-bear workshop a couple of miles away. At first, Ryan wasn't too keen on this idea and neither was Brendon but when Aelyn looked at them with the most adorable pout ever on her face, they couldn't say no. And so Ryan drove them there, and after spending less than five minutes in here, he already wants to leave. Screaming overjoyed kids is a torture for him, he's starting to feel like all those exhausted parents accompagnying their kids, except he came here with a grown up woman.

Once she collected enough clothes and accessories she comes back with a big smile on her face, “aren't you guys going to make one too? It's not fun if I'm the only one who does it.”

“Well, it is not my thing but I gladly will look at you dress your bear.”

“No,” she pouts, “you have to make one too!” she places two bears, one in front of Brendon and one in front of Ryan, then drop a few clothes in the middle of the table.

“Fine,” Brendon says relunctantly, and pick a red merry christmas t-shirt from the pile of clothes and try to put it on the teddy bear, even though he's certain it won't fit, because its head is too large to fit the tiny hole in the shirt. Surprisingly enough, it fits, which makes him smile a proud smile, “hey the t-shirt fits my bear!” he announces excitedly.

“Good, now I am no longer stuck here with a child but with _two_ of them, what did I do to deserve this?” Ryan complains.

“Look,” Aelyn begins in a soft tone as if she was talking to a little child, “you take a bear and a piece of clothing,” she picks up a red pea coat and place it in front of Ryan, “and you dress your bear, and you stop being an old soul for a minute and have fun with us.”

“Yes mommy,” he jokes trying to put the coat on the bear, “there is no way its giant head will fit in there,” he mumbles in frustration.

“Ah see!” Brendon exclaims, “it's not _that_ easy, so I have every right to be proud!”

Ryan gives Brendon a fond look before smiling, “you do have the right to be proud,” he tugs on the coat a bit more and the bear's head finally pass through it, making Ryan smile, “I can not believe I take pride in dressing a bear.”

“See? Next time before judging my idea and acting like it is the most boring idea in the world you'll try and have some fun, my ideas are always good,” she kisses his cheek and go back to her side of the table, “I'm going to dress mine in overalls because it's honestly the cutest thing in the world.”

Ryan adds a pair of black pants to his and Brendon hands him a headband with a bow on it glancing at Aelyn who's concentrated on putting the overalls correctly, as if she might hurt her teddy bear if she goes too fast. Ryan nods with a smile and add the headband to his bear.

He clears his throat loudly enough to get Aelyn's attention, “I present to you the first Aelyn Bear ever,” both Brendon and him smile proudly.

“You love me so much you even see me in a teddy bear?” she laughs softly, “I love it, it's adorable, I do wish I'd have a red pea coat,” she rounds the table once again to hug both of her friends at the same time, “I knew coming here would let us spend an amazing moment together.”

“Now we need to pay for all of this and go somewhere else, get ice cream perhaps?” Ryan suggests and Aelyn instantly perks up and pick up her teddy bear from the table, hopping happily towards the cashier, “what did we do to deserve this sunshine?”

“Certainly something amazing, in a past life,” they pick up their bears and go join Aelyn at the cashier.

 

***

 

Brendon feels ill-at-ease sitting here, in a booth he used to sit at way back when he was a child and his mother accepted to go buy him ice cream, “don't tell your father,” she'd always say knowing his father would be angered by it, saying sugar had a bad effect on Brendon. Granted, Brendon got more energetic when he was eating sugar, but his father acted like it turned him into an evil creature. His mother, on the other hand, liked to treat her son once in a while, just to see this special smile on his face, a smile he only had when he got a gift or a surprise, something that made him feel like the entire world was made of cotton.

He looks at Aelyn, holding her teddy bear tightly against her while she eats her ice cream, so slowly he thinks they might stay here for hours. She ordered a ball of cookie dough ice cream and one of meringue and lemon ice cream, just like she used to. His mother isn't here to look at him fondly and say that it's okay she doesn't have to buy one for herself, he doesn't have to keep it a secret to his father, his uncle hates him now and he hasn't seen his aunt in the past ten years. Those are the things that changed. But right in front of him is the same meticulous ice cream eater he had known back then, the one with the weird choices of flavors, this, hasn't changed, and he hopes it never does. He would have never thought that out of all people on earth, Aelyn would be the one who'd feel like home.

“Are we going back to Stateline any time soon? Because I didn't pack a bunch of sweaters I bought when we were there and they're too cute for me to abandon them,” Aelyn says looking at her compagny for an answer.

“We will go back there, at least it is planned, I thought we could spend Christmas over there, it would be a nice idea, do you not think?”

Aelyn glances at Brendon who's swallowing hard, staring at the melting ice cream in front of him, “I personnally would like it, Brendon?” she asks cautiously, he lifts his head and hums questioningly, “Ryan suggested we spend Christmas in Stateline, all together, I think it's a nice idea and I wanted to know what _you_ think about it.”

“The majority of us has spoken, so,” he trails off, shrugging.

“Your choice counts more, for obvious reasons.”

“It's a nice idea, mom always said Christmas didn't feel like Christmas outside of this cabin. But don't you have families to spent it with? I don't want you to spent it with me solely because you know otherwise I'd spend it all by myself, watching the Grinch on tv with a box of cheap chocolates in hand.”

“Well,” Ryan clears his throat, “Aelyn does not have much family to spend it with, since her father is an ass and I stopped spending Christmas with my mother years ago, we exchange gifts and a hug and that is it. Personnally, I would not want to spend it with anyone else than you two, we spend it every year together and you are the perfect new addition. Plus, I truly want to see you in an ugly Christmas sweater and a santa hat.”

“Fine,” he smiles brightly and leans his head on Ryan's shoulder, “I'll wear an ugly Christmas sweater just for you, but only if you do too.”

“We all will!” Aelyn adds excitedly.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is perhaps the last one of this year, or maybe I'll do a Christmas special, it'll all depends on whether I have enough inspiration and time to write one. In the meantime, I hope you like this new chapter!


	21. Chapter 21

Christmas used to be Brendon's favorite time of the year, until his parents died, after that he refused to celebrate Christmas. Even when he lived with Aelyn and her parents, he would lock himself up in his room eating leftovers from the night before, and nobody would see him until the twenty sixth. Of course, at the time, it made Aelyn more than happy.

Now, he's sitting in the cabin next to the fireplace wearing the ugliest Christmas sweater ever made, with the two most important people in the world wearing sweaters that are just as ugly as his. None of them is a good cook, so their meal is nothing fancy and clearly nothing festive, but somehow eating pâté on toasts taste like the best meal he's had in years.

Back when they used to come here with the entire family, they used to eat salmon in various forms as a starter and then of course a turkey, perfectly cooked by his mother. In Brendon's mind, that is what a festive meal should be, to this day he still can't eat salmon nor turkey without breaking down into tears. But when they went to the grocery store earlier and Aelyn suggested to buy smoked salmon pâté, he couldn't tell her what was the actual reason why he didn't want to buy it. So he lied and said the scallop one would be tastier, that he knew for sure the smoked salmon one didn't taste good after trying it during the time he stayed at the cabin by himself.

“I brought a dozen of cds so that we can put music on top volume and dance around all night,” Ryan announces with a mouth full.

“You? Dancing? Does it ever even happen?” Brendon teases.

“Yes it does, rarely, but it is a special occasion so it will happen tonight.”

“Which won't fail to make us laugh until we cry, because Ryan dancing is the funniest thing in the world, he dances like a weird uncle at a wedding.”

“Hey!” he bumps his shoulder against Aelyn's playfully, “that is not nice to make fun of me, you do not dance any better for your information and I am a great ballroom dancer, and you can not deny that.”

“True, I can't deny that.”

“I would've thought you'd be the kind to step on people's feet,” Brendon admits.

“I know I am a clumsy man, but not under every circumstances, I can prove you I am a good dancer,” he finishes his toast and stands up to put a slow song on before coming back to Brendon, holding his hand out, “may I have this dance?”

Brendon awkwardly looks between Ryan standing there and Aelyn sitting besides him with the biggest smile on her face, clearly excited at the idea of seeing them slow dancing together. He bites his lower lip in hesitation, and the couple of seconds it takes him to make up his mind seem endless. When he finally grabs Ryan's hand, his face lights up and Brendon can't help but smile at him, big and bright.

Ryan pulls Brendon tightly against him, holding him by the waist, while Brendon wraps his arms around his neck. At first, Brendon looks anywhere but at the man standing right in front of him, but a moment later, his gaze finally settles on him, and he realizes Ryan had been staring at him lovingly the entire time. He leans his forehead against Brendon's, still staring into his eyes, and suddenly he's all Brendon's aware of, not the smell of the fire, not the sound of the music, not the leftover taste of toast in his mouth, just Ryan holding him tight, staring into his eyes, the same way he did that night when they lied in Brendon's bedroom upstairs.

He runs his fingers through the hair at the nape of Ryan's neck, it's longer than it was a month ago, when he held onto it every time his thrusts took a different angle. It curls a little, more than the rest of his hair that's more wavy than curly, each strand wraps perfectly around Brendon's finger.

They're still staring at one another, slow dancing in the middle of the living room, another song has started now, or is it still the same? Brendon doesn't really know, too wrapped up in Ryan's presence, the warmth of his hands on the small of his back, the softness of his forehead against his, the way his breath crashing against his lips almost feels like a kiss.

Despite everything, Ryan still looks at him as if he were the most beautiful and perfect thing he's ever seen in his entire life, he doesn't look at him with pity or fear or even nothingness, he looks at him the same way he always did. Nothing could change Ryan's mind when it comes to his feelings for Brendon, not the possibility of him going to jail for a decade for beating up his own uncle, not the possibility of him being guilty of not one, not two, but three murders. Not even the fact he hurt the most important person in his life, leaving bruises on her arms for weeks after the incident.

This man, right here, standing in front of him in the ugliest sweater he's ever seen besides his own, loves him, unconditionnally, the kind of love that can never truly fade even fifty years down the line.

This man, with the most gorgeous eyes, golden like honey, and intoxicating like whiskey, with the fanciest way of speaking. How can a man be so utterly perfect and in love with Brendon at the same time?

“God, I love you,” Brendon blurts out in a whisper, causing Ryan to pull his head away from Brendon's, both of them wide eyed at what Brendon just said, a loud squeal coming from behind them.

“You- what?” Ryan asks, confused.

Brendon tries desperately to find a way to get himself out of this, to find a lie, something he could say to right the wrong he has just done by blurting out what was supposed to stay inside his mind. He doesn't find anything though, and Ryan is still staring at him expectantly, his grip on Brendon's waist slowly loosening.

“Did you mean it? Or is it another one of your attempts to be nice to me in regards of my feelings for you?”

“No it's not, I swear, i-it uhm I-” he stutters incapable of looking into Ryan's eyes right now, “I do love you, I always did,” he pauses to take a deep breath, “but you and I, it can't happen because I am me, my fucked up me and you are everything that's good in this world. And I'd die if anything would happen to you.”

“Always did?” Ryan repeats as if it was the only thing Brendon has said.

“Do you have any idea of the first impression you give? When I saw you at that weird sort of party, you were so beautiful and mysterious at the same time. Everything about you fascinated me. I didn't know I loved you at the time, I didn't know, or more accurately I didn't want to admit it until,” he sighs loudly, “until you made love to me that night.”

Ryan's eyes widen as Brendon continues, “everything was perfect that night, _you_ were perfect that night, your lips, your body, your words, I couldn't get enough of any of it. You got me in a sort of love trance and it was magical and intense, the perfect representation of the love we share. But then we slept and when we woke up the trance had disappeared and I could think somewhat clearly again. And so I lied, I said I didn't love you when I know that even you knew it was a lie, because I had to protect you from me and all this violence surrounding me. I had to protect you and if I would have told you just that you would have found a way to minimize the risks, because you'd accept anything from me, even if it means you'd get hurt. Granted, breaking your heart was also a way of hurting you but I figured that a heartbreak was still better than any physical pain I could put you through. I love you, so fucking much, and that's why you and I won't happen.”

“Y-you love me?” Ryan's mouth drops open, his grip tightening around Brendon's waist as he nods, “I already told you that this aggression does not define you, and that I would defend myself if you ever lose your temper with me, and it could happen even if we stay just friends. You can not decide for the both of us, we are in this together Brendon, you do what you think is right from _your_ point of view, but what about mine? Does it not matter as much as yours?”

“That's not what I said, see? That's exactly why I didn't want you to know, you're willing to take the risk to get hurt by me, the risk to _die,_ out of love for me. That's not sane and I refuse to let you do something like that!”

“Stop over reacting would you? You are taking this out of proportion, as far as we know you did not kill anyone so stop acting like you did please. I love you and I want to be with you, and if you love me too I do not see why we should cross out the idea of getting together solely because of what ifs,” he pulls Brendon closer to him, nuzzling the bridge of his nose, “may I have the honor to call you mine?”

Another squeal echoes from behind them making Ryan roll his eyes before he goes back to staring intensely inside Brendon's eyes, “I just don't want to hurt you,” Brendon whispers.

“Then do not, listen, I know it is far from being as simple as I am trying to put it, and I know that if it is hard for me to deal with this it is a thousand times worse for you. But if I stay your friend I take the same amount of risks right? So why will you not let me take that risk while being your boyfriend?”

In some way, Ryan's right, he takes the risk to get hurt just by being in Brendon's life, and maybe the reason why he pushes Ryan away is selfish, maybe he's just scared of losing yet another person he would die for.

“Promise me one thing,” Brendon sighs in defeat.

“Anything.”

“If I ever even just try to hurt you, run away from me, keep yourself safe and find someone to treat you right, promise me that.”

“I promise I will, but for now, I want us to see the positive side of it which is that we both are in love with one another. Christmas miracle.”

Brendon laughs softly, “it's a miracle that _you_ love _me_ that's true.”

“So, I reiterate, may I have the honor to call you mine?” Ryan asks in a soft loving tone, his lips only a couple of inches away from Brendon's as if he was ready to kiss him already, before knowing Brendon's decision.

“Yes,” he whispers, seeing Ryan's face illuminate instantly, before he has the time to say or do anything else, Brendon feels Ryan's soft lips pressed against his.

 _Oh God,_ Brendon thinks, _I missed those lips._

They kiss, softly at first, as if they were scared it might be a dream, chaste kisses pressed lightly. Then, when certain all of this is real, their kisses get rougher and deeper, both of them pulling the other even closer than they already are.

Aelyn clears her throat resulting in them pulling away from each other with an obscene pop, “as much as I love seeing you guys being all in love, I am still here and it is still Christmas eve and I'd rather not spend it by myself or looking at you making out.”

Brendon laughs softly, blushing visibly, and mumbles a quiet, “sorry,” before going back to sit next to the fireplace where Aelyn is still sitting, a toast in hand. Ryan joins them, staring at Brendon with glistening eyes, his pupils dilated to the point the golden in his eyes is barely visible anymore. However, his gaze isn't held or crossed, Brendon being too busy staring at the food placed on the floor in the middle of their restricted circle.

“Okay, I killed the magic right? I'm sorry guys, I just want to have fun with my best friends, I didn't want to be a killjoy or a cockblock whatever you guys call it.”

“You didn't kill anything don't worry, I really want to _finally_ spend a normal Christmas with you,” he rests his hand on Aelyn's, “not one where I'm locked up in my room, nor one where I spend the entire time trying to make a hell of your night. I just want to sit here, eat awfully cooked food, listen to nice music by the fireplace with the most important people in my life right now.”

“I must add that we have all the time in the world to find a moment to spend just him and I together, it does not necessarily needs to be right now,” he glances at Brendon to make sure he also wants to spend some time alone with him, and relax when he sees Brendon nodding with a soft smile.

“I love you guys, and I wish you nothing but the very best, but if one of you hurts the other I'd be faced with a dilemma to know if I should kill him or not,” she laughs softly and pull the both of them into a tight hug.

Brendon glances at the clock near the stairs and smiles, “merry Christmas Bunny.”

“It's not-”

“We are the twenty fifth, we've been for the past ten minutes,” Brendon explains, cutting her off.

“Oh!” she perks up, standing abruptly, taking both of her friends off guard, “it's time to unwrap the gifts!” she yells from where she's already climbing up the stairs.

Ryan and Brendon look at each other with raised eyebrows, mouthing _gifts?_ in confusion, they didn't know they had to buy gifts, they both thought they'd just spend the night together, but apparently Aelyn thought differently and now they feel bad.

When she comes back she's holding a couple of shiny bags, a large smile plastered on her face, she places the dark purple one on Ryan's lap and the night blue one on Brendon's, clapping in excitement, “open them!”

“In a minute,” Ryan starts and Aelyn's face falls, “we did not know we were meant to buy gifts and I did not buy you anything and I feel like a crappy friend now, because you got me a gift and I did not do the same for you.”

She stares at Ryan for a moment, then turns to face Brendon who's nodding slowly, she sighs and in an instant her smile is back on her face, “you are wearing those ugly Christmas sweaters even though you hate them just to please me, and you _finally_ confessed your love for each other, those are gifts to me. And more importantly, you're here with me tonight even though I know you hate Christmas Brendon, and I know for sure your mother would have loved to spend a moment with you tonight Ryan. You guys are my friends, and there's no one on earth I love more than you two, and you're here, with me, you put up with me on a daily basis. That's the biggest gift in the world for me.”

“I love you,” Ryan tells her pulling her into his lap, “your existence in itself is a gift and not only to me,” Aelyn smiles at him and hides her face in his neck, sniffling, “I would give you the world if I could, you deserve nothing less,” he brushes a strand of hair behind her ear and lean close to whisper, “but the world is already inside my arms every time I hold you.”

Aelyn shakily tightens her hold on Ryan, tears slowly rolling along her cheeks, wetting his neck along with the collar of his sweater, “you'll always be the love of my life, asshole,” she says quietly, her face still hidden in his neck. Ryan laughs softly and press the softest kiss on her cheek, before she pulls away and wipes at her cheeks frantically.

“Open your gifts,” she says to the both of them.

“Wait,” Brendon chimes in, “I've been an ass to you for the most part of your life, and in some way without knowing about it, I made your life less pleasing and much harder just by being the person I was at the time. I moved in with you and it got worse, I moved out and left, and somehow it made it even worse,” he takes a deep breath, “I'm glad I saw you that night when I came back here, and I'm glad you stuck with me. You support me through everything, you're here for me whenever I need you, even when I don't even know I need you. You care for me, unconditionnally and it reminds me of my mom, _you_ remind me of my mom.”

Aelyn starts crying again and throw herself in Brendon's arms, causing the both of them to fall backwards, “okay I take that back, you remind me of a puppy instead,” Brendon laughs softly and Aelyn starts lapping at his cheek playfully, making him laugh harder.

“Aunt Grace was a beautiful woman, inside and out, I'm flattered I remind you of her even if it's in the smallest way, I know how much you loved her,” she holds him tighter, still lying on the floor with him, “you can be a pain in the ass sometimes, but you know what?” she pauses until he hums, “I love you almost as much as she loved you.”

Brendon smiles and hug her tightly against him for a long moment, fighting back tears. He knows his mom loved him with all the love you could imagine, she loved him so intensely it was impossible to measure it. He didn't deserve to be loved as much as he was by his mother, but still he had been lucky enough to have it. And now, Aelyn, his cousin, the one person he would have erased from earth a decade ago, is lying in his arms, telling him she loves him almost as much as his mother did. He felt the unconditionnality of her love through her acts but she never told him and he never told her because that's just not how they work together, they don't just tell one another about how much love and affection they have for the other.

After a kiss on the cheek, Aelyn sits up holding her hand out to help Brendon sit back up as well, “now will you guys open your gifts or will we keep being disgustingly emotional?”

Ryan gives her a bright smile and takes a large wrapped box out of the bag, he eyes her suspiciously, “did you offer me an empty box?” she shakes her head unable to stop smiling at him. He shrugs and rips off the wrapping paper revealing a seethrough plexiglass with a typewriter inside, he gasps and rips the rest of the paper at the speed of light.

He turns to Aelyn, mouth hanging open, “are you crazy? It is one of those lightweight typewriter you can carry around without breaking your back, especially when you are a scrawny man like me! Oh my God!” he runs his fingertips along the plexiglass, staring at the typewriter in shock.

“I know how much you love typerwriters, and this one is perfect for you, you'll be able to test it by writing something new, a new novel maybe.”

“That is why you offered me a typewriter is it not?” Ryan asks playfully, “do you have any idea of how much this costs?”

“Yes I do,” she laughs softly, “I bought it remember?”

“How many meals did you skip to buy me this?”

“None, I promise, I've just been saving for a while and finally got enough money to buy it for you,” she smiles simply, looking at him staring at the typewriter with the gaze of a child unwrapping a new console.

“It is gorgeous, so beautiful, I can not believe you bought this for me, what did I do to deserve you? I must have been a saint in a past life, oh my God.”

“I'm glad you love it, I knew you would love it but you could have been upset and see this as me trying to push you to write again, which is true to some extent but not entirely, you were still writing a little bit when I decided to start saving for it,” she rants, “and I never dropped the idea of buying it for you because your love for typewriters never died down and I thought maybe inspiration would find its way back to you if you had one of these.”

“The first thing I will write with it will be a long essay about how much I love you despite how crazy you are for saving so much money to buy me a gift, count on it,” he smiles at her bright and big, the kind of smile that is rare to see on his face, “wow.”

“I'll do it again if it makes you smile like that again.”

He turns to her still smiling and wraps an arm around her shoulders to pull her to him, kissing her cheek letting his lips linger on her skin for a moment, squishing her cheek at little, his lips less than an inch away from her lips. And no one notices, or maybe Aelyn does a little bit.

Once he pulls away, Aelyn turns to Brendon who's looking at the both of them with a smile on his face, “now it's your turn to open your gift.”

“Well, well, well,” he clears his throat and pulls his wrapped gift out of the bag, he rips off the wrapping paper, slowly revealing a brown leather box. He can feel Aelyn's gaze fixed on him, almost cautious about his reaction, which doesn't fail to make him wonder what could be inside of this box.

He takes a deep breath, unsure why, and open the lid, seeing a bunch of random objects inside, at least it would be random for anyone but him. Here, in front of him, lies all he has left of his parents, he's never known what was inside of his box, he saw it once when he hid in the attic in Aelyn's house after getting in an argument with Brochan.

He looks up at Aelyn with teary eyes, barely able to see her through the blur, he can still see her smile though, a soft loving smile, “I found it when I took a few of my belongings that I had left in the attic at my parents' house and I think they meant to give it to you at some point but you left and they probably forgot about its existence. I thought you'd like to have it, it belongs to you.”

He takes a framed picture in his hands, running his fingers along the cold glass, he remembers when that picture was taken, his mother and him had gone to the park on a day his father had to travel for work. It was a good day, for the both of them, they had laughed and talked about everything that bothered Brendon because his mother had a sixth sense when it came to Brendon's well being and she knew he wasn't okay. So she bought him an ice cream, drove him to the park and did what she did best, take care of him.

At the time, he was roughly thirteen, and it was humiliating to spend a day like that with his mother, out for everyone to see, he remembers being nervous out of his mind about the possibility of someone seeing them and making fun of him when he'd go back to school. He was a stupid kid. Still, though, he didn't tell his mother he wasn't a child anymore and that they couldn't just spend a day together in the park, he didn't tell her no matter how much he wanted to.

She did her best, she always did, she never stopped seeing Brendon as the little child she had raised, and all she wanted that day at the park, was to put a smile on Brendon's face and help him feel comfortable enough to share his thoughts and fears with her. As always, she did an amazing job. She made him forget about whatever was bothering him and made him laugh, and even got him to take a picture with her even though he hated family pictures.

“Thank you. I couldn't have wished for a better gift,” he picks up the snow globe that's in the corner of the box and shakes it a little, “I bought this to her on our last mother's day, I knew how much she loved snow globes, and she loved this one even more, just because it came from me,” he wipes away his tears, smiling softly.

“I'm glad it makes you happy to have this box, I wasn't sure how you'd take it, I was scared it might hurt your feelings, especially tonight.”

He shakes his head forcefully, frowning, “it doesn't hurt, I mean, it hurt that she's not here with us but these tiny objects and cards and pictures,” he pauses, sighing, “they bring me closer to her and that's all I've ever needed, hell, I even wish my dad would be here,” he laughs brokenly before smiling again, “thank you, again.”

“Well,” Ryan laughs softly making the atmosphere a bit lighter, “you guys got me crying,” he wipes away a tear from the corner of his eye dramatically, “it is an emotional Christmas.”

“Yes it is,” Brendon chuckles, “blame it on Aelyn.”

“Hey!” she pokes his arm, pouting, “I'm happy I picked your gifts right.”

“You did, you are the very best,” Ryan says with a smile.

 

***

 

Brendon stares at his friends, his chin leaning on his joined knees, Aelyn is fast asleep, curled up with her head in Ryan's lap. It didn't take her long to fall asleep after she decided to lie down to, as she said, “rest a little bit.” Ryan's absent-mindedly running his fingers through her hair, keeping it out of her face.

“It was a nice night,” Brendon whispers, “I almost forgot Christmas could be a good moment to spend with loved ones instead of just another normal day that you spend feeling out of place for not celebrating it.”

“Did you not celebrate it with Spencer?”

He shakes his head, “I told him I didn't celebrate Christmas anymore, and he never pushed it, so we never celebrated it, at least I didn't. I always made sure he went to spend it with his family. Just because I didn't want to celebrate didn't mean he had to do the same.”

“So you stayed alone every year?”

“Yes,” he shrugs, “but it wasn't that bad.”

“Well now you have people to celebrate it again with,” Ryan says with a smile, “I am glad we got to spend it with you, and not solely because we slow danced,” he adds with a nervous laugh.

“Talking about that, uhm, do you mind if we go slowly?” he asks hesitantly, “with all this mess going on in my life, I want to make it right with you, I don't want to mess _this_ up as well.”

“We will go as slowly as you think is fit, I do not want to push you to do anything you do not want to nor push you to do things at a pace you are not comfortable with. We will stay focused on the trial and keeping you free, after that we will concentrate on our relationship more, do you agree with that?”

Brendon nods, “if you're willing to put up with me trying to put order in my messed up head.”

“Of course I am, I _love_ you Brendon, I am not going to let you down and certainly not when you need me the most. You are not messed up, you are the way you are and you can try and change what you are, and be a better you, but it does not mean that something was wrong before,” he reaches out to rest his hand on Brendon's calf, “trust me.”

“And if I go to prison, what will you do? Visit me once a week in a room where we'd be observed and not allowed to touch? Is it really what you want? Because that's not what I want for you, you deserve so much more than that.”

“You will not go to prison, my mother is the best at what she does, she will keep you free, and do I need to remind you that tonight is supposed to be positive?”

Brendon shakes his head slowly, “I'm sorry.”

“Do not be, come here,” he tugs on Brendon's pants until he gets closer and cuddle up to him, “how about we try to sleep? It is getting late.”

Both of them lie down carefully trying to move Aelyn who's still sleeping in Ryan's lap, Brendon rests his head on Ryan's chest immediately held tighter by him, “Ryan?” Brendon asks barely audible above the crackling of the fire, “I love you,” he whispers after getting a hum as an answer.

“I love you too,” he says pressing a soft kiss on the top of Brendon's head.

Tonight is the first time he celebrated Christmas without his parents by his side, it was quieter than what he was used to when he was a child, but nonetheless, tonight has been the best night he's had this year. Surrounded by the two persons he loves the most, and maybe even more, if his parents and Spencer are looking down on him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since I am a weird person, I post my Christmas special on New Years Eve just because I freaking can. This chapter is an emotional one but also a cute one, at least I hope so, so I hope you'll love it as much as I loved writing it!


	22. Chapter 22

_Happy new fucking year,_ Brendon thinks as he sits in a foreign office, filled with representants of the law who don't seem to be aware of where they are and most importantly why they are here. They wish one another a happy new year even though the year has started a week ago already. People tend to do that, wishing a happy new year to everyone they meet or see during the entirety of January, a new year has started I think we're all aware of this, thank you very much. We all know this year is going to be just as shitty as the previous one, so why bother wishing other people all the happiness in the world? Especially when those wishes are more of an automatism than true and heartfelt.

For obvious reasons, neither Ryan nor Aelyn are here with him, and he wishes they would be. It's a torture sitting here, and waiting for the psychologist to say what exactly is messed up in Brendon's head, if anything is. He doesn't know what's scarier, finding out he's a messed up violent attacker who has a dysfunctional brain, or finding out he's completely normal and this behavior is in his nature. At least if his brain has issues he can fix it right? Can he?

Once they're done being hypocrites, they all take a seat around the large wooden table casually putting out their files on the surface, as if all of this was just a meeting about some charity to get kids to have more time to exercise at school and not a serious matter like this one.

“As part of the case opposing Mr. Urie present today and Mr. Summers who couldn't be present today due to an appointment to the hospital, I have been asked to process to an assessment of Mr. Urie's mental health,” Dr. Garrett says formally as if it was a speech she had prepared before coming here, or maybe she does it so often it became automatic and she just changes the names to fit the case of the day.

Brendon's sitting directly to Ryan's mother's right, Brochan's lawyer in front of him and the judge with Dr. Garrett are both sitting at each end of the table, which seems ridiculous. There are five people around a large table and they're all sitting in a corner of it, just like they do in those rich families in movies.

“So, what has been your conclusion?” Brochan's lawyer asks already ready to take notes, the joyful light attitude from earlier long gone.

“Mr. Urie suffers from what I can only define as a rare form of dissociative amnesia and borderline personality disorder. It's a rare occurrence. I've seen patient suffering from each disorders but never had one with both of them at the same time.”

“What do you mean by that? Can you explain more in depth so that everyone around this table can understand?” Anne says in a bossy tone.

“Sure,” Dr. Garrett clears her throat uncomfortably and Brendon would feel bad for her if he wasn't more concerned about himself, “dissociative amnesia is primarily a sudden inability to remember elements from the past, in his case it is what we call a localized amnesia but could also be a selected amnesia. It isn't rare for a patient to suffer from both of those but to push the diagnosis further and have a more precise idea, I will have to start a therapy with him.”

Anne takes notes before lifting her head back to look at the doctor, the same expression she has when she loses patience with Ryan when he's being unclear with his words. Dr. Garrett shifts in her seat and open her mouth to speak, but Anne cuts her off, “we are lawyers doctor, so it would be kind if you could explain clearer for us all to understand.”

“Of course, I'm sorry, I tend to forget to explain what I'm talking about,” she sits straighter and takes a deep breath, as if it was the first time she was doing this kind of meeting for the court, “a localized amnesia involves being unable to recall a specific event due to it causing a source of stress or trauma. A selective amnesia is almost the same but not completely, in the sense that the person suffering from it forgets only a specific part of said event.”

She looks intently at both of the lawyers in front of her to make sure they understood before going on, “a borderline personality disorder, which is the second part of the diagnosis is characterized by highly impulsive behaviors due to the patient lacking emotions control. In Brendon's case, it also involves strong feelings of anxiety, worry and even depression, along with a persistent fear of rejection which I'd have to, as I said earlier, analyze some more in order to be more precise.”

Both Anne and Brochan's lawyer nod and take notes, both frowning, if they didn't look so drastically different, based on their posture and expression you could think one was the reflection of the other.

Brendon looks around him, no one even glancing his way, too caught up in their work, something truly is wrong inside his head and he doesn't know what to do with this information. He wants to stand up and shout to get their attention, he wants to shake the doctor and tell her to explain exactly what all of this means for him. What will happen to him in the near and further future? Does that mean he can't function like a normal human being and have to be locked away? In jail, where violence dominates and where he'll get beaten and possibly even- he's a small guy he won't survive more than a day in there.

His head feels like it's on fire, two seconds away from seeing his brain explode and redecorate the Judge's office, all he can hear is his heart pounding, so fast, so hard, like a violent rhythm played angrily on a bass drum. His breathing speeds up until it stops, he feels it stop abruptly, and the next thing he's aware of is the cold slap of the ground against his side and a faint scream, far, far away.

 

***

 

When he regains consciousness he feels a cold hand slapping his cheek repeatedly, he turns his head away, groaning. He hears sighs of relief and tentatively open an eye to take a look at his surroundings, he's still in the Judge's office and the hand was Anne's who's looking at him as if she just saw a ghost.

“Young man, don't you dare do that to me again, is that clear?” she says firmly and he nods slowly, glancing at Dr. Garrett who's kneeling next to him, looking just as concerned as Anne, her eyes wide and teary.

He frowns, confused as to why this woman who's still nothing but a stranger to him, got _that_ worried about him fainting, “I'm fine,” he mumbles, “I shouldn't have skipped breakfast this morning, that's all.”

He's sitting on the same chair as earlier, and nothing was a fantasizing of his mind, it was very much real, and he almost wishes he'd faint all over again just to forget about it for a little while.

They all go back to their seats and Brochan's lawyer clears her throat, “so, I guess we have all the elements to build our defense speeches,” she closes her file and puts it away inside her bag, her moves in slow motion, or maybe it's just Brendon's head.

They stand back up and shake one another's hands, except for Brendon, who stays sit, glued to his chair, unable to stand up, he's certain that if he tries to stand up he'll fall face first to the ground and break his nose, or simply look like the most stupid human being on this earth. Dr. Garrett notices and comes to sit next to him while the other three keep talking by the door.

“Hey,” she says in a soft tone, “it isn't dramatical to suffer from those disorders, you'll just have to go through a few appointments to have a better diagnosis and then start a therapy based on what you need. It can be with me but also with any other psychiatrist, it is up to you, really.”

“I'm insane, I'm violent and then I forget about it, I'm some sort of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hide except it isn't entertaining like this story has been in books and movies, it is real life!”

“You are not a Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hide from real life, you don't experience a split personality disorder. You are not insane either, you are sick, it's diff-”

“No it's not,” he cuts her off, “my head is sick, which makes me insane, it's just a nice way to put it, it's some stupid sugarcoat, to try and minimize what's happening, what I am. You can't minimize that, I kill people, I beat them, I hurt them and then I forget about and I'm convinced I did something entirely different. It's some psychological thriller plot in a really bad movie.”

“Being sick means that something made its way inside of you and alter the normal function of the location it settled in. You treat it and then it leaves, and you can forget about it, or you can also learn how to cope with it. See it as a form of cancer, it is here, it makes you sick, but you're not responsible for it and you want to get better, so you treat it, get chemo and in most cases you get better. Or diabetes, it alters the function of your pancreas but you get an insulin treatment and you learn to live with it,” she pats Brendon's thigh and squeeze it a little, “those disorders are a part of you, but you can get better and learn to live with it, have it under control. You're young Brendon, you have so much time ahead of you, so why not invest a little part of that remaining time in learning to cope with all of this?”

“Diabetes or cancer is killing you, not people around you, so it's only about you, if you don't take your medication you die and that's it. In my case, whether I get a treatment or not, people around me have risks to get killed by me and I'd still be walking around with no guilt whatsoever because I simply don't remember what I did.”

“You do feel guilty about things Brendon, your nightmares, about killing yourself, it shows guilt, your subconscious is expressing guilt through dreams because the conscious part of your brain doesn't allow it to express itself when you are awake.”

“They only happened after what happened to my uncle, they didn't happen after I killed my parents, so does that mean I don't feel guilty about it? Because I do, every single day, I do, and I'm not hyperboling,” tears start to fill his eyes and he has to look away, he already cried enough in front of this woman, he can't do it any more.

“You don't feel guilty about your parents' murder because you did not kill them, nothing in your memories of that night shows that you did it.”

He turns his head back to her direction, wide eyed and mouth open, he frowns and take a deep breath as if it was the first time he was breathing in his life, “what?” he whispers, barely audible.

“You remember details of that night, you remember hearing your mother and what she said, you remember the feeling of the tears rolling down your cheeks, you remember what you felt like. You don't remember any details of the night you attacked Mr. Summers, you vaguely remember doing things but they feel like a dream that you can't decide is real or not. Your brain formed these memories to protect you from trauma, so it doesn't feel completely real and it is not real, your brain can't form detailed memories it didn't experience. So the fake,” she air quotes, “memories seem foggy.”

“I-I didn't kill my parents?”

“No, you did not. But you attacked your uncle and you are going to be judged for that, and I know you are guilty of it, but I repeat I am not a representant of the law so I won't do anything about it. But I will testify, in favor of you getting help instead of locking you up in jail, it is not your place to be there.”

“And before I learn to cope with it? I'll still be a threat to those who surround me, I'll be free to commit other crimes, to attack other people whenever my emotions slip out of my control.”

“You won't have the freedom to commit any more crimes but you won't go to prison and I hope that testifying in your favor will help your case, it's science, it's health they can't deny my observations they're based on facts not on speculations,” her eyes widen and she suddenly speaks faster, “but I'm not saying lawyers base their defense speeches on speculations, don't tell Mrs Ross or she'll kill me.”

Brendon laughs lightly, “I won't tell her.”

Dr. Garrett sighs and nod, “thank you. Just remember what I told you, about being sick,” she pats his thigh and join the rest of the group right as the lawyers are about to leave and Anne turns around to give an impatient glance in Brendon's way. The kind of glances moms give their child when it's time to leave and the kid wants to keep doing whatever they were doing. He sighs in resignation and follow her out of the office.

 

***

 

“Dr. Garrett's assessment is perfect for our defense, now that we know for sure you are not responsible for the aggression we can use that to destroy whatever defense Ms. Kleinman will try to build. It is really good for us,” Anne says surrounded by papers on the diner's table, Brendon's plate dangerously close from the corner.

“But I am responsible for beating up Brochan, my judgment is altered in certain cases but I still have the ability to take decisions and if I didn't want to beat him then I wouldn't have.”

“Fine, go and be your uncle's lawyer then since you're more focused on crushing my defense and every argument I bring up than saving your ass from going to prison where God knows what would happen to you,” she gives him a stern look and cross her arms, certainly waiting for an apology.

“I'm not trying to crush your defense, I'm just biased about the situation, we both know I did it and it's difficult for me to find a reason to try and not get punished for a crime I committed.”

“Well, if you want to go to jail you are free to go, really, it'll save me a lot of time and I'll be able to help someone who really needs my help and want to win their trial. But the thing is, my son, for God knows why, have all the affection in the world for you, and I love my son, so of course I'll help his boyfriend, but you're not making the task easy at all, really,” she frowns looking at a paper before rolling her eyes and pushing it aside.

“I'm sorry. But you have to try and understand me, two hours ago I learned that all this time my head really was messed up and that it was a disorder or more precisely two disorders that made me like that and not just the nature of things. I still have to process it.”

"You'll have all the time in the world to process it when you'll go to jail for the sole reason you were too busy feeling sorry for yourself to try and save your ass, quite literally in that case," she snaps before calming down abruptly, "listen, I'm sorry if I act like an ass to you sometimes, but I take my job at heart and even more when it's to indirectly help my son. He counts on me to keep you out of trouble and I can't disappoint him, not another time. Don't think I despise you or something along those lines, I'm just doing my job."

"Ryan loves you, he admires you, he can't be disappointed by you he'll always think something went wrong and that it wasn't your fault," Ryan would be pissed if he'd know Brendon just said that to his mom.

"He admires me as a lawyer and he thinks I can't lose a case no matter what. So if I were to lose one, this one out of all cases, he'd think I did it on purpose and he'd hate me," she sighs and put order in the large amount of papers spread in front of her.

Brendon knows she's right, Ryan would yell at her convinced she did it to separate them because she can't accept that her son can be happily in love, even less if it's with a man. And Brendon would be in jail not even a witness of the scene and he'd be convinced it was _his_ fault, his messed up mind fault.

And Brochan would be happy, telling all the customers coming to the café that his out of control nephew is locked away for a long time and that Vegas can be safer now. As if the criminal rates wasn't one of the highest in the country even with Brendon rotting in a prison cell for an entire decade.

So much can happen in a decade, and when Brendon would finally be free again the world he had known would have ceased to exist when all he would have done all this time would have been a routine perfectly scheduled. Technology would've advanced, new phones would be out doing even more than they already do, a major invention would have changed the life of the population around the world. Two presidents would have been leading the country. Fashion would be completely different and even crazier than before. Thousands of new artist would have popped up and none of those in the charts would be artists Brendon knows.

Ryan would be married and happy settled in a nice house in the countryside, he'd be a certified New York Times' Best Seller Author. And the memory of Brendon would be long gone from his mind.

Aelyn would have found someone with whom she'd be happy and could be free of subconscious pressure to have sex. She'd have started to study art in college to get even better than she is now, and she'd do previews in the most famous galleries. Having Ryan's full support and looking just as gorgeous as she's ever been in the most sumptuous gowns.

Brochan would have another café near Vegas, it'd have become a brand, starting to spread across the country on the verge of becoming a worldwide business.

And his parents' graves would be abandoned, no flowers on them except for the wilted ones from the year before, because obviously people only go to the cemetery once a year for anniversaries. So much can change in a decade, and Brendon would still be the same, at the same point in his life, with the same mindset, same feelings. He'd be a stranger, even in the places he'd used to know, and oddly the only place where he'd feel somewhat normal would be in prison.

"We'll win the case," Brendon states firmly, "I'm not sure how but I know that you know how we'll do that and I trust you entirely with my fate."

Anne looks up from her now ordered papers, clearly surprised, "where does that confidence and motivation come from?"

"My fucked up mind doing what it does best; over thinking," he shrugs.

"See? Your mind has positive aspects too," she gives him a soft reassuring smile, a mom smile, "I saw the doctor talking to you before we left, did she tell you anything we can use?"

Brendon shakes his head, "she just comforted me, it's kind of her job to notice when someone's feeling down. She's nice, she reminds me of my mom." 

Ryan's mom hums softly, "she's a nice woman but she's not used to meetings about the cases she works on, usually she sends her report and we only talk to her in court during the trial."

"I noticed that. But she did well nonetheless, especially when she decided to talk to me," he fiddles with his hands, "she's good at her job."

"You seem to like her."

"I do. She's nice. I spent the entire time of the assessment trying to vilify her but I didn't find anything."

"Not everyone has bad intentions Brendon," she lectures him.

"Most people do."

"It all depends of who you meet but there are more people with good intentions than with bad ones, they just don't always know how to act adequately. And it comes from a woman who's seen the worst cases in this country's criminal history," she laughs lightly.

"It depends on our experiences I guess."

"It does. But when something really good happens to you it doesn't change your perception of the world or of the people you meet. So should your bad experiences impact on your overall perception of your surroundings? It's not logical."

Brendon doesn't know what to add to that so he just nods and look down at his hands. She's right, something good happens and we're happy for a while but when something bad happens we're devastated for an undetermined amount of time. The same way as a failure convinces us we are a failure ourselves but succeeding doesn't convince us we are a success.

 

***

 

Aelyn and Ryan are both sitting on her couch staring at Brendon expectantly, waiting for him to stop pacing around the living room and finally tell them what he said he needed to. He had call both of them, half hysterical, rambling about how he needed to tell them something important. But since Ryan has joined them Brendon didn't say a thing, just paced around mumbling to himself.

"Will you stop pacing around my living room? I'm pretty sure the floor is half the size it used to be. Now sit down and tell us what happened to the appointment," Aelyn finally breaks the silence.

"I-I-I I had to go to the Judge's office e-earlier wi-with the d-d-doctor who did my assessment and she sh-shared her diagnosis."

"And? What did she say?" Ryan asks unsure of what he should expect.

"I didn't kill my parents," he laughs almost maniacally, "I didn't, I didn't, I didn't do it, I didn't."

Both of his friends exchange glances, confused by Brendon's behavior while he's still repeating that he didn't kill his parents, "Brendon, baby, please call down," Ryan begins, stepping closer to Brendon a hand held out, "how about we sit down for a minute?"

Brendon looks up at him, wide eyed, "I didn't kill my parents, I didn't do it, I'm messed up but I didn't kill my parents, I didn't hurt my mother, I didn't touch her."

"That is amazing Brendon, I always believed in you, I have always known that you didn't kill your parents."

"I didn't kill them, I didn't, I-" he's almost out of breath, bursting into tears, his face hid in Ryan's neck, "I didn't kill them," he chokes out.

"No you did not," he kisses the top of Brendon's head, glancing worryingly at Aelyn, "I knew you did not do it, we all did."

"Brendon," Aelyn chimes in in the softest tone possible, "what else did the doctor say?"

Brendon looks up from Ryan's neck, red-eyed, visibly disoriented, "sh-she said that I suff-ffer from two disorders," Ryan encouragingly rubs his back, "and it alters my memory and the way I d-deal with my emotions."

"So you're not responsible for your acts, therefore you won't go to prison!" Aelyn exclaims.

"But I-I'm still messed up and the trial is still yet to be over."

"You're not messed up you're sick, it's different," Aelyn protests.

"Dr. Garrett said that too."

"That's because it's true."

"Listen Bren," Ryan says holding Brendon's face in his hands, "you will not go to jail, and you will get the therapy you need to get those disorders in check. It is not going to be easy, but you will be able to have an explanation for little things you thought just made you strange."

"I'm scared," he murmurs.

"I know you are, but you are not alone, and I can promise you will not be ever again. We are here for you, we have all the love in the world for you and it will not change."

"Even if I do end up going to jail? A decade is so long, by the time I'd be out everything would be different including you two."

"You won't go to jail get that in your head," Aelyn says, "yes a decade is a long time and people change in such an amount of time. But do I need to remind you that we found our way to each other after spending a decade apart? And look where we are now."

"I know but-"

"There's no but."

"Okay," Brendon sighs, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be."

"Now, how about we watch a movie and eat pop corn with a disgusting amount of butter on it?" Ryan suggests earning a nod from his friends.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew! Here it is finally! I hope this chapter was worth the wait and that you loved it! Three quarters of the story is done now, so less than ten chapters are left and I feel bittersweet about it because I've been writing this one for more than a year now and I've never stuck to a story for that long. I'll miss those characters for sure, and I hope you'll miss them too.
> 
> This one took ages to be written because I got really busy and didn't find the time to sit down and write properly, I also didn't have a computer for a couple of weeks which forced me to write on my phone and I type way slower on my phone than I do on a computer. I promise the next one will come sooner though, don't give up on me just yet!


	23. Chapter 23

The sand is warm under his feet, a contrast to the coolness of the midnight wind. A step forward and the raging water crashes against his naked legs reaching to his ankles. He takes more steps forwards, again and again until the water is up to his waist and even then he doesn’t stop, just keeps walking. And the water’s movements grow in violence, the waves submerging Brendon, imprisoning him, seeping into him, replacing the air that once filled his lungs. He chokes but doesn’t struggle, just accept his fate the way it comes.

Suddenly air enters inside his lungs and he chokes himself awake, held tightly by a firm hand. He blinks a few times, looking around frantically, his breathing heavy as he tries to breathe normally.

“Babe it is okay, it was just a bad dream, you are safe and awake in your bed with me, Ryan,” a soft monotone tired voice soothes from beside him.

Brendon turns to him, wide-eyed, “I-I fuck, these nightmares are- they’re so vivid, I can feel myself dying.”

“Dreams are that way Brendon but you are safe right now, you are very much alive,” he places a calming hand on his shoulder, “now lie back down, will you?”

Brendon nods and curl up against Ryan’s chest listening close to his heartbeat trying to focus on its slow rate and sync his own to this pace.

It's been a couple of days since he last had a nightmare of this kind, they're happening more and more often, and each time they become more vivid than the previous one. He even tried to give himself a pep talk before going to bed to try and sleep with no troubles. He told himself that yes he attacked his own uncle but that it wasn't entirely his fault, he was sick and needed help, but it clearly didn't work, and now he's awake and exhausted, terrified to go back to sleep.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Ryan asks in a whisper, before yawning as discreetly as he can.

“You're tired, just go back to sleep, I'll be fine,” he presses a soft kiss on Ryan's collarbone, “don't worry about me.”

“I always worry about you,” his grip on Brendon tightens, “and I am willing to stay awake if you feel the need to talk about your nightmare, I will just sleep later in the morning, it does not matter.”

“I walked into the ocean until I was a part of it, I didn't even struggle, just choked to death on the water that was coming in through my mouth and nose.”

“Well, I can tell you that you did struggle in the real world, you almost kicked me off of the bed in the process. Did you tell the doctor about those dreams?”

Brendon nods slowly, “I did, she said it was my subconscious translating my sensation of guilt about what happened to Brochan, so I tried to tell myself I wasn't completely responsible. I repeated it to my reflection in the mirror before coming to bed and it didn't quite work the way I wanted it to.”

“That is because it is the conscious part of your brain trying to convince your subconscious and that guy is tough you can not boss him around easily. But I do believe that if you repeat it to yourself convincingly enough times, eventually it will make its way inside your subconscious and you will be at peace, at least partly. Your trial is coming up soon so it will soon be done and over with, you will be able to actively start your therapy with Dr. Garrett and get better one day at a time.”

“Except if I go to jail.”

“You will not, we already had this discussion Brendon.”

“I believe in your mom's skills, and I try my best to be positive about the situation, but we can't pretend like it erases every possibility of me going to jail. I don't want to be taken by surprise if I were to be sentenced to jail time,” Brendon sighs and look up at Ryan who's blinking slowly, “go back to sleep, it's okay,” by the time he finishes his sentence Ryan's already fast asleep, “it doesn't matter,” he adds in a whisper, snuggling closer to him.

 

***

 

The sun is rising when Brendon opens his eyes, woken up by the loud ringing of a phone coming up from somewhere inside the apartment. He reluctantly sits up on the bed, looking around with tired eyes, Ryan is no longer lying next to him, the bed neatly made on what is his usual side. It takes Brendon a moment, to finally gather the courage to get up.

In the kitchen, Aelyn is sitting on the counter, her phone pressed to her ear, she nods and hums, swinging her legs in the air. Her eyes land on Brendon, awkwardly standing at the kitchen door, she smiles at him, “he's finally up,” she pauses, “yes. Okay. No problem. Talk to you in a short while.”

She hands her phone to an extremely confused Brendon, she mouths that it's Ryan's mom on the phone which makes him tense instantly. She never calls, unless it's about the case, he takes the phone with shaky hands and wait to be in the living room to speak, “hello?”

“Ah, Brendon, I'm sorry to call you early in the morning, but I have an important information, the judge just called me,” _why the hell is the judge calling that early?_ Brendon thinks, “and the date for your trial has finally been decided, it's quite soon, but don't worry about it, I have everything ready already. We can go there with confidence, and I count on you to be as confident as possible, it's important, being positive brings positive things. Most of the time.”

“Okay,” he swallows hard before daring to ask the one question that's on his mind, “when is my trial?”

“Young man, you're eager to know, I wouldn't have expected that from you, really. It is in two weeks, on the 28th to be precise, I count on you to find a decent suit to wear in court, I don't want you to look like an idiot. I'm sure Ryan might have something for you, but you're curvier than my stick of a son, so it might be a problem, I don't know, try to squeeze your big butt in the pants. Or buy one that could be yours, however you want to do it, find a good one,” he hears her type on what sounds like a keyboard, before she speaks up again in a softer tone, “don't worry sweetie, everything will be fine, just trust me and do what I tell you, okay?”

Brendon nods before remembering she can't see him, and he mentally facepalms himself, “of course. Thank you for everything.”

“You're welcome, you'll buy me a bottle of champagne as a thank you when we'll win,” she laughs brightly, which is completely out of character coming from her, “well, as much as I like your compagny, I have a ton of work for another case so I have to hang up.”

“I'll see you later then.”

“Of course,” he's not sure but he thinks there was an hint of a smile in her voice.

When he hangs up, Aelyn is standing in the corner of the room, leaning against one of the walls, her eyebrows raised expectantly, “so?”

“My trial is in two weeks, and I have to find a decent suit to wear to the court,” he says quickly biting on his thumb, “she suggested I wear one of Ryan's.”

Aelyn can't help but laugh at that, “Ryan is the skinniest man I've ever got to meet, and you are definitely not the same size, maybe a jacket could fit but there's no way the pants would fit you.”

“Why are you all telling me that?” he whines.

“Because we all have eyes and a brain to interpret what those lovely balls see.”

“So you think I should buy one? And where do I find the money to buy it, do I need to remind you I don't have a job, I don't even have an apartment of my own,” he hisses and let go of his thumb when he starts tasting blood.

“Stop biting your thumb before you hurt yourself,” she lectures him and he shrugs as if it didn't matter, “if you hurt yourself it'll hurt me too, and I don't think you want to hurt anyone you care for.”

She knows what to say to make him stop, even if tearing apart the skin of his thumb is a minor harm, she knows that Brendon wouldn't do that to her, and equaling his hurt to hers would make him stop automatically. And it works, he doesn't bring his thumb back anywhere near his mouth.

“Now, do you want us to go shopping?”

“Didn't you hear what I told you? I'm absolutely broke, I can't pay for a suit, do you have any idea of how much it cost?” he remembers well when he was around five, his father bought him a new suit to go to church. When they arrived there, there were many other kids his age, so obviously he went to play around with them and just like every time kids play things got messy. Brendon's suit got ripped at the knee in the process, and his father was far from happy, the entire ride back home he lectured Brendon about how much this suit had cost, and told him he was irresponsible for ruining it.

Brendon stayed sat on the backseat, tears silently rolling down his cheeks, half listening to what his father was telling him. He didn't see what he did as wrong, he just wanted to play with the other kids, he didn't ruin his suit on purpose, he tripped and scrapped his hands and knees. His palms were burning and red, but he didn't say anything about it, his father was already angry enough, he didn't want to give him any more reasons to be.

He refused to go to church after that, and his father didn't even think about forcing him since he didn't want to buy another suit for his irresponsible son, convinced he'd ruin it again.

The first Sunday after the incident, his father went to wait in the car without a word for him, his mother on the other hand hugged him longly and kissed him repeatedly, reluctant to leave him. She made sure he knew everything to do if he had a problem, and kissed him once more before leaving, locking the door behind her, leaving Brendon on his own.

They could have asked the neighbor to keep an eye on Brendon instead of leaving their young son alone, but if they'd have, they wouldn't have had an excuse to give people for him not to be at church. It was a disrespect to the Lord if your kid didn't want to go to church, nothing could justify the absence of your child, not even them being sick. So they simply said that he was spending the weekend at one of his grandparents' house and was going to the church near there. It was the perfect excuse for him not to be there, and they couldn't have it ruined by a noisy neighbor baby-sitting their son.

“Brendon,” Aelyn calls, tearing him out of his thoughts, “I said I will pay for your suit, you'll give it back to me when you'll find a new job, okay?”

“Uhm, you don't have a job either, I won't ask you for money.”

“Fine,” Ryan chimes in, coming out of the bathroom, only somewhat covered by a towel, “I will pay for your suit, I happen to have a job, and I want to help you. I would have suggested you take one of my suits since I have quite a lot but-”

“I'm too curvy to fit in the pants,” Brendon cuts him off, earning a smile from Aelyn, “I know.”

“It is not an insult, you have a gorgeous body,” Ryan points out.

Brendon blushes a little bit, “well that's _your_ point of view but thank you.”

“Can you too stop being disgustingly cute so we can go buy this suit now?” she eyes Ryan and giggles, “well after you put something on because you clearly can't go out like that, or you won't walk ten meters before someone jumps your bones.”

Ryan shakes his head and goes to the bedroom dropping his towel on purpose on his way there, Aelyn laughs brightly and hides behind her hands, “how dare you flash me like that?” she turns to Brendon and give him a stern look, “you too, go get dressed, and please for the love of God, do not do anything in the process, we don't have time for that.”

Brendon laughs lightly, “we won't, we're not the kind to do that at every single occasion we get, and for your information we're not there yet.”

“Sure you aren't, but two gorgeous men in love, getting dressed together, almost always leads to messing around, even if you don't go the whole way.”

“Except if said men, are in love but not with each other.”

“Of course, you dummy, now go get dressed or I'll treat you like a child and dress you myself,” she says in a faux maternal tone, which makes Brendon laugh and go get dressed in the bedroom.

 

 

***

 

“Do you think this one says, I'm a serious decent man who has all the respect in the world for the court and our justice system or does it say I couldn't care less so I picked the first suit I got a hand on?” Brendon asks worriedly.

“Well it says neither since a suit can not speak, but I have already told you that you look beautiful and classy in every single suit you have tried on since we have arrived here.”

“Ryan is right, you look fabulous in every single one you've tried on, your shoulders look broad, your waist thin and your hips are the hottest in town in those pants. Take a deep breath and calm down, you'll look perfectly serious.”

“You sure? Isn't it too tight on my butt? I don't look like a twink in an awful office porn, do I?”

Ryan starts laughing brightly, Brendon still staring at him in the mirror, “no you do not, you look beautiful, and yes your butt is arousing in those pants but no you do not look like a twink in an office porn.”

“There's office porn?”

“Yes.”

“I'm gonna try another suit just in case, I don't want my butt to be too visible to people, it might give people the wrong idea, or I might look absolutely ridiculous.”

“Brendon, if you go pick another suit I'm hitting you on the head and drive you back home while you're unconscious. You look good, stop overthinking about a suit Brendon, a suit is a suit, it is the perfect size for you, it's black and simple, it's perfect for your trial so we buy that one and you don't get to argue with that.”

“I'm sorry, I'm just really nervous,” he fiddles with his hands staring at himself in the mirror, “this suit could be the last thing you see me wear besides a prison uniform, and I want you to keep a good memory of how I look outside prison.”

Aelyn and Ryan exchange a glance, sighing in sync, “you've been confident in the past couple of weeks so keep it like that, you won't go to-” Aelyn's get cut off by Brendon's phone vibrating from the fitting room, “go pick up, you never know who it might be.”

Brendon nods once and rushes inside the fitting room picking up without checking who's calling, convinced it's Ryan's mom calling for more details or to announce him bad news. He's taken aback when the voice on the other end is not Ryan's mom's but a softer voice, one that could be a teenage girl's. No matter how long it has been since the last time he's heard it, Brendon recognizes it instantly.

“Brendon?” the woman says quietly, “I found your phone number in Brochan's papers and I wanted to call you to talk. I didn't want the first time we talk in years to happen at the court with lawyers everywhere. Brochan would get angry and he doesn't need the stress, not any more.”

“Aunt Mary,” Brendon breathes out, catching Aelyn's attention who peeks into the fitting room with a confused look on her face, Brendon just shrugs, “why do you want to talk?”

“You got yourself in trouble and you're my nephew, so I care and I want to-”

“I know I'm in trouble no need to remind me, thank you. And it doesn't explain why you want to talk to me, if it's to tell me how disgusting I am and how disappointed you are I don't want to hear it, you can save it for the court.”

“Oh no, that's not what I want,” she says in that specific tone you use when you're afraid you might have hurt someone's feelings, “I wanted to know how you're doing, and,” she pauses a second too long to Brendon's liking, “I wanted to know if you did it.”

“I'm fine,” he lies, “and of course I didn't do it,” it's another lie, but he can't just confess to his aunt that he indeed attacked his uncle but that it wasn't completely his fault and that he needs help more than to go in prison. Anne would kill him if he'd do that.

“Oh sweetie, I know it when you lie, of course you're not fine, but I understand why you want to keep it from me,” she sighs, “you know when I first heard about it my first thought was that it happened again, and I was scared, for Brochan, for you as well.”

“That what happened again?” Brendon asks in confusion.

“We never told you about it but everyone thought you were- uhm- that you were guilty of what happened to your parents, but the police never proved anything so-”

“Exactly!” the word comes out louder than Brendon intended catching his friends' attention even more, “they never proved it, because I didn't do it, I did not fucking kill my parents so can you all stop acting like I did? I can be messed up sometimes, but not to that extent. I loved my parents with all my heart, even my father, I loved him too. I would have never hurt them.”

“That's not what I-”

“I know what you meant okay? Brochan already told me about all this bullshit, he still thinks I did it, but you know what? You can both go fuck yourself, we'll see each other in court,” he hangs up, his heart beating fast, tears filling his eyes.

Aelyn stands up, ready to hug him or comfort him but he raises a hand in her direction, “I'm fine, I didn't kill my parents, I'm fine.”

“Of course you didn't Brendon, Dr. Garett herself said you didn't,” she steps closer but refrains herself from pulling Brendon in a tight hug, “don't let what any of my parents might tell you make its way inside your head. You need to keep all your energy and confidence for the trial.”

“I'll have to face them, in court,” he pulls the dead skins from his lower lip with his teeth, pacing around again, the same way he did the other day in Aelyn's apartment, “I'll have to face them, see the hatred in their eyes and hear all the horrible things they have to say about me.”

“If they say horrible things about you, they're lying, because all four of us know that they always loved you like their own son. And besides making out with a guy in high school and disappearing after your graduation you never did anything majorly wrong. I'll go to the stand myself if I need to.”

“Do you think they can bring up the make out incident?”

“Of course not, it's irrelevant to the case.”

“And what could they say about it? Teenagers do those things it is not something that can make you a good or a bad person, and it certainly does not have any correlation with you being violent,” Ryan adds, catching both of his friends off guard. He was so quiet since Mary's phonecall that they almost forgot he was here.

“But that way the jury will know I am not straight and it'll have an influence on their decision on whether I'm guilty or not, it's not written on people's forehead if they're homophobes.”

“They can't use it anyway! Do you really think they'd want to see that the case they were a jury for is subject to suspicion of homophobia? You know the media like to play the perfect little people who are so fervently against injustice so they'll make a lot of noise about it. And no one wants that case to go _that_ far.”

“You're right, they can't use my sexual orientation against me, they can't.”

 

***

 

Tuesday 28th, 8:37AM. The trial starts in two hours and Brendon is standing in front of the large mirror in Aelyn's bedroom, his suit is perfectly cut, but somehow it feels too tight. Two sizes too small. Air is barely entering his lungs, his eyes feel swollen but no matter how hard he tried the entire night, he didn't cry, not a single tear.

In two hours the beginning of the end will start, he'd rather die than sit there and let a bunch of people he doesn't know examine every details of what happened and judge him based on what we allowed them to know.

His legs feel light, barely able to hold him in a standing position, he takes a seat on the floor still staring at his reflection. His hair is neatly combed, his skin is somehow clean and clear, as if it felt that it was maybe the last time people would see him normally and wanted to make an effort for once.

He hugs his knees and rest his forehead on them trying to breathe slowly and force his brain to calm down with the soothing rhythm of his breath. It doesn't work much and he quickly loses patience. He takes a deep breath, and somehow the tears finally pour out, soaking Brendon's cheeks and suit, he curses but at least it didn't happen in court which is something he's thankful for. Crying in front of fifty people is a terrifying idea.

“Mommy,” he chokes out, “I'm sorry I didn't grow up into the man you thought I'd become, I'm sorry I grew up so messed up, I'm sorry I'm not worthy of having a mother as amazing as you are. I've never been, but I am even less now. You did your best, it's not your fault if your baby boy is going to court today, it's not your fault if it's probably the last time he leaves this apartment. You've always been the sweetest to me, you always told dad to be kinder to me instead of yelling and manhandling me all the time. You were a beautiful woman, and I'm sorry I didn't grow up nearly as beautiful as you, both inside and out.”

He sniffles loudly, not bothered with wiping the tears away, “I wish you would be here today, and it's selfish of me because I know it'd hurt you to see me having to go through a trial for beating up my own uncle. But I'd give anything for you to be here and hold me and tell me that everything is going to be okay, even though it's not true, just hearing it from you would make me believe in it. I miss you, I miss you so much. I should have died instead of you, you made this world a better place and I am here being messed up and ruining people's lives. If I could switch places with you, I would, I'd give you back your life.”

He stays silent for a moment rocking himself slowly, “I should have killed Brochan, I'd have had a death sentence and I'd be dead by now, and you would be by my side again, if by some miracle I would have had the right to go to whatever holy place you are in. I don't remember the sound of your voice, or your smell or the way your hugs felt, those memories disappeared by now and I can't stand it. I can't stand the fact I can't call you when I feel like dying, I can't stand the fact I can't roll my eyes at you being overprotective of me, I can't stand the fact I have to live without your advices. But most of all I can't stand the fact I am here, breathing, existing in a world where you disappeared long ago. I don't want a world where you don't exist.”

A light blow of air runs along the back of his neck, he lifts his head quickly to look behind him but no one's there, he looks around him frantically, but still, no one.

“Mom?” he asks tentatively, of course no one responds and nothing happens but he was certain he felt something on the back of his neck, like a feather caressing his skin.

“Brendon?” Aelyn comes in, stopping straight when she sees the state Brendon's in, “oh my God, Brendon are you okay? Wait, stupid question. Do you need anything? You look like you've just seen a ghost.”

“Maybe,” he smiles softly at Aelyn who's frowning in confusion, “I'm fine, I needed to let everything out and it finally happened.”

“Okay,” she stares at him, “Anne called to say she'd join us there since she has a couple of things to take care of for another case today, but she'll be here on time for your trial don't worry.”

He nods slowly, “okay, it's time to go, isn't it?”

Aelyn doesn't say anything she simply nods and give him a sympathetic smile.

 

***

 

Sitting in the corridor in a court is the last thing Brendon would have thought he’d have done on this Tuesday morning. The corridor is crowded with members of juries for other trials, perhaps even his, he doesn’t know, with lawyers and journalists, judges and soon-to-be prisoners. Besides the lawyers, holding tightly onto their attaché-cases, there is no way to differentiate who’s a criminal, who’s a victim or who’s a part of a jury, in appearance there is no way you could tell who’s who. But somehow, Brendon’s certain, everyone passing by can see “criminal” written in bloody characters on his forehead. 

A few people give him a smile when they walk past him, but most of them just keep walking and don’t even glance in his direction as if what they were on their way to do was so important nothing around them could distract them from it. To be fair, it is probably far more important than paying attention to the weird dressed up guy who’s waiting for his trial to start. Now that he thinks about it he’s not even sure he looked at anybody on his way to sit on this bench, he can’t remember if he did it. Maybe he did but he can’t remember, and it is a simple thing to remember but no even at that he fails miserably.

His mother taught him better, she always made sure he’d greet everyone they passed by, she said that too many people were just living their lives without paying attention to the people passing by. She said that even just a “hello” could make someone’s day better and brighter, especially coming from a little boy as cute as he was. Since then, of course he stopped greeting every single person he meets because Las Vegas has numerous inhabitants and once you grow up it starts being weird to say hello to everyone. You get weird looks as if you were completely insane when really you’re just trying to be polite. Still he tries to greet as many people as he can.

In Phoenix, no one knew him as the son of one of the most important religious family in town, so he would have been classified as the weird creepy dude who says hello to everybody. So he lost the habit.

In his peripheral vision, he can see Brochan arriving escorted by Mary, his lawyers and a couple of Brendon’s aunts and uncles, they look like dangerous members of the mafia, dressed all nice in suit and ties and dresses. No one thought it’d be a good idea to try and contact Brendon about all of this, to get news from him after all these years without seeing nor hearing from him. They all automatically decided to support Brochan, and Brendon can’t blame them for this but no one doubted of his guilt, as if they all knew sooner or later it’d happen. They certainly all agreed that Brendon might have been his own parents’ murderer back in the day, and so now they’re not surprised by what happened. 

Why did they all think he killed his parents that night is beyond him, he never showed signs of violent behavior, at least he doesn’t think so. And even if he did, it would have never been towards his parents, and even less towards his mother. 

They all pass him by looking straight ahead, to show him how superior they are to him, how he’s no longer a part of the family for them. Mary has a glance for him though, and smiles tightly at Aelyn who’s sitting next to him. No one else seems to notice his presence, or they make sure to make him feel that way, he’s not sure, either way, he feels even worse now.

As if reading his mind, both Aelyn and Ryan rest a hand on Brendon’s thigh, squeezing slightly to remind him that they are by his side, always here to support him. Since they’ve arrived, no one dared to speak up, they just walked, sat and waited, neither Aelyn nor Ryan said anything and so Brendon didn’t say anything either. He rests his hands on his friends’ as a silent thank you and Aelyn rests her head on his shoulder.

Aelyn looks half ready for a funeral half ready for a party in a fancy club, in her preppy black dress and wavy hair. For once, she didn’t look for the perfect outfit for hours, she just picked up this dress and put it on, as if this dress was made for the occasion, pretty enough but sober enough to wear at court and black enough to show her emotions. She doesn’t seem hurt by the fact her own father passed by her without even a glance in her direction. All of this is Brendon’s fault, he’s the one who attacked Brochan, he’s the one who should be ignored and hated by them, and he is. But the problem is that Aelyn is too, she just tries to be a good friend to him and support what she thinks is right, she does the same thing as his aunts and uncles do by being on Brochan’s side. 

It’s beyond him how anyone could stop communicating with their own child solely because they don’t get their support on something that is, yes important, but also minor compared to the relationship they’ve had their entire life. Brochan and Mary has always loved Aelyn more than anything, and it was only fair since she’s their flesh and blood. And now they act like it never happened, and it seems to hurt Brendon more than it touches Aelyn, at least that’s what she tries to let people think.

She’s always been close to her parents, she always sought her parents’ recognition through everything she’s ever done, she always wanted to make them proud of her, she wanted to live up to their expectations. Usually, doing that is a sign that you have esteem for your parents and see them as superior to you, you see them as entities you have to satisfy and please. You still see them through the eyes of a child. Somehow, even though she tries to hide it, Aelyn still seeks her parents’ pride, she wants them to flaunt about how their daughter is doing well and is a good woman.

He glances at her, her head still resting on his shoulder, she looks thoughtful, staring at the wall in front of them, he leans his head on hers and sighs. He goes to say something but he's quickly cut off by Anne rushing up to them, she's not running though, she stays composed, as always.

“Are you ready to kick some ass?” she asks stopping right in front of Brendon, a double door opens further in the corridor, and she starts walking again, “ready or not, we have to go,” she states firmly on her way, leaving all three of them behind, confused.

Aelyn stands up, and after taking a deep breath she takes the same path Anne took a second ago, Ryan looks at Brendon and stands up too, holding his hand out towards him. Brendon shakes his head at him, breathing heavily, but Ryan takes a firm hold of his hand and pull him up, not letting it go the entire time they walk towards their seat inside.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's finally a new chapter! I hope even though I'm posting way less often you didn't abandon this fanfic and still read every chapter even though you are little ninjas who read but never comment (if you want to stop being a ninja now is your moment to shine, if you want to stay a ninja it's cool!). As you might notice we're getting closer to the end, step by step, and I hope I'll keep YOU as a reader until the very last dot of this fanfic. 
> 
> As always I hope you enjoyed this chapter!


	24. Chapter 24

Every person present took their seat in the court room, not many people are here. On the benches behind Brochan and his lawyers are most of Brendon's family, the rest of them arrived soon after Ryan and him came in. His aunts Dinah, Bernice and Esther, his uncles Andrew, Jason and Tobiah, even his cousins are all here. They reunited to support Brochan, every single one of them, even his cousin Jairus who moved in Australia a few months ago apparently, at least that's what Aelyn had heard. He lives in Australia and still, he came to support his uncle. They're even more numerous than earlier and still none of them tried to contact Brendon, none of them even dare to glance his way, they just stare straight ahead.

Brendon turns around in his chair to face the benches behind him, Aelyn and Ryan are sitting first row, almost all the other benches are empty, except for one where Dr. Garrett is sitting all alone. His uncle is surrounded by so many people who care enough about him to come here today no matter how long it takes them to get here, or what they had originally planned to do today. He sighs and try his best not to let tears form in his eyes, here are every person who cares about Brendon, even remotely, and there aren't many of them.

Aelyn seems to notice something's wrong because she stands up and bend over the wooden barrier to rest her hand over Brendon's, squeezing it lightly, “don't let yourself get intimidated by their number, they're a bunch of hypocrites, they don't even like each other, they just want to keep the facade, just like they always did.”

He takes a deep shaky breath and nod, “none of them tried to talk to me or look at me, I'm a stranger to them, or more accurately a ghost, and they're all together, even if it's hyprocrisy, they stick with one another. And look at how many people are here to support _me._ ”

“It doesn't change your worth as a human being Brendon, and, granted we aren't many but I can swear to you we both love you so much more than all those jerks could ever love Brochan,” she never calls her father by his first name, which surprises Brendon, “we love you, I know I still don't tell you those words, but,” she hesitates a second, taking a deep breath, “I love you Brendon, you're the second person I love the most on this damned planet, and I can promise you, Brochan will never experience being loved as much as you are by me.”

“I love you too,” he takes her hand in his and hold it firmly, “so much more than I can express, especially right now, and even though someone important is missing today, you being here for me makes it bearable.”

“She's not missing,” she smiles softly and pulls a photograph out of her handbag, placing it on his lap, “she's always with you, in your heart, and I know it is cliché to say that but it's true, and if you doubt it, just look at that picture, it'll feel like she never left.”

He takes a look down at the photograph lying on his lap and smile tightly, he remembers seeing it in the box Aelyn gifted him for christmas, it's a family picture where his mother has the brightest smile. Brendon is red-eyed from crying before the picture got taken, he didn't like the idea of a family portrait and wasn't in the mood to get his picture taken that day, but still he made an effort. His father looks as serious as he ever did but he looks somewhat relaxed, and anyone who's ever known him, knows it was a rare occurance. Brendon's pressed tightly against his mother's side, her arm around his tiny shoulders. He was about six when this was taken, and he had an awful haircut in his opinion, but every church boy had this haircut at the time, so he didn't really have much choice. His mother always thought he looked beautiful like that though, so somehow he thinks he's kind of cute, despite his weird haircut.

He places it carefully on top of the desk that's behind him, and turn back to Aelyn, “thank you for that too,” he gives her the brightest smile he can manage in this situation, and she smiles back.

A door opens loudly, and everyone suddenly stand up, Brendon looks around in confusion before standing abruptly when he sees the judge standing near his armchair, he brings down the gavel and calmly asks everyone to sit down. Brendon glances at Anne who's neatly placing her notes in front of her, making sure everything is organized once more before the trial officially starts.

“Case #8972, the defendant, Mr. Brendon Urie, is accused of physically assaulting, the prosecutor present here today, Mr. Brochan Summers, the defendant's uncle,” the judge states in a monotone voice, clearly used to present case after case, “how does the defendant plead?”

Anne stands up, “guilty, your honor,” she says firmly, before sitting down again, Brendon looks at her with wide eyes because he clearly didn't expect that, “we have to, our defense is not based on you being innocent but on you not being responsible of your acts at the moment of the crime,” she tells him quietly, he nods slowly, fiddling with his fingers.

“Good, we can now move on to the plea, starting with Mr. Fletcher who's representing the prosecutor,” the judge motions him to go stand in front of the jury and leans back in his seat.

Mr. Fletcher stands up and smoothes down his suit jacket before going to face the jury with the same tight expression he's had since he entered the courtroom. He clears his throat, and speaks up audibly and with a perfect enunciation, “members of the jury, you have been reunited here today to do what is right, that is to say put this dangerous young man right there, behind bars for a long time. It is your role to make this city safer. For your sons and your daughters, for yourselves as well.”

He walks along the same perfectly straight line as he speaks, going back and forth from one end of the jury to the other, “my client sitting here, is a good man from a modest religious family, he owns his own business and goes to church every week. When the defendant lost his parents in what could only be qualified as a tragedy, my client and his wife took good care of him within their household. And that until the defendant left, leaving a note on the fridge, not a thank you, nothing. The night of the crime, my client had forgiven the defendant for running away all those years ago and offered him a job along with an apartment. Once again he gave it all to him, and how did he thank him? By beating him up and leaving him lying in his blood in the back of the café my client worked hard to have.”

“Who would you rather believe, a virtuous man devoted to God, or a vile ungrateful child who refused to go to church his entire life? I hope you will do the right choice,” he concludes earning a few nods from the jury, some just glance between Brendon and Brochan with an unreadable expression on their faces.

Mr. Fletcher goes back to his seat with a smug smirk on his face, Anne looks at him and grumbles “this bastard, wait until I kick your ass,” she stands up abruptly taking Brendon by surprise, and take a stand in front of the jury. She looks confident and ready to conquer the world, and that is why Brendon trusts her as much as he does.

“Ladies and gentlemen from the jury, you are here to assist to a trial opposing two members of the same family who have been reunited under awful circumstances. My client's path hasn't been easy throughout his lifetime, from growing up with a strict father who tried to have full control of everything his son did, to becoming an orphan at the age of fifteen. We aren't here today, to lock up an animal, we are here today to discuss the fate of a human being, who's been through so much more than the average human can endure. My client is not a threat, to you, or the people you know, or anyone in this city. He is just a young man who needs to be helped, not judged and locked away unreasonably.”

She nods once at them and make sure to look each of them in the eye before coming back to sit next to Brendon, a couple of women look his way, with what can only be described as pity in their eyes. He looks down at his hands and takes a deep shaky breath.

“Let's take a break before we move to the second part of the trial,” the judge declares, bringing down the gavel once more.

Brendon immediately turns around in his chair to face his friends sitting behind him, he's shaking visibly and pull the dead skins from his lower lip, “the jury hates me already, I'm going to be locked up by the end of the day, and I won't see you for the next ten years, and I'll have to live with much bigger men who will-”

“Brendon,” Ryan cuts him off mid-sentence, “it is not the way things are, it is your perception of the situation and your perception is biased by your mental health. There is no way for us to know what is in the juries' heads.”

“They looked compassionate when Anne talked to them, so in _my_ opinion it is a good point for you, just try to breathe, as slowly as you can and I promise you that everything will be alright.”

“You should listen to them,” Anne adds, “we're going to win this case, I've never lost one, and I don't plan on starting today.”

Brendon nods slowly, trying his best to slow the rhythm of his breath, “I'll try. But I plead guilty so that means that no matter what happens I'll go to prison right?”

“No,” Anne states firmly, “as I told you it is about proving that you aren't responsible for your acts not that you did not commit the crime. You will have a sentence, that's for sure, but it won't be a sentence to jail, you will have to start a therapy or something along those lines. But no jail time for you.”

“I'm scared,” Brendon chokes out, teary-eyed.

“We know,” Ryan speaks up first, “and we are here to support you through this, to overcome the part in your brain that is trying to feed you a deformed negative version of reality. We will go through this together, you are not alone.”

“I know,” he says quietly, “I'm lucky to have you two, I don't know what I'd do if I were to lose you.”

“Good thing you won't have to know then, because you're stuck with us until we're at least a hundred years old and we don't recognize anyone and we all live in a retirement home somewhere shady just outside of Vegas,” Aelyn says playfully and successfully earn a smile from Brendon.

Brendon's smile doesn't last long though, the judge comes back to his seat and brings down the gavel again, announcing the trial can now continue with the presenting of the prosecution. He takes a deep breath as the case-in-chief starts.

 

***

Brochan's lawyer stands, firmly holding onto the edge of his desk, “I call Mrs. Summers, my client's wife and the prosecution's aunt, to the stand.”

Brendon holds his breath as his aunt passes by him, he stares at her and not once does she glance at him, she just sits, looking straight ahead to where Brochan's lawyer is standing. Here is the woman who took care of him after the tragedy of his parents' death, of course she wasn't the best keeper but she loved him anyway. He wasn't an easy kid, especially after what had happened but she decided it was her duty to give Brendon a new home, despite knowing that he and Aelyn hated one another at the time. Brochan went along with it, and he loved Brendon too in his own way, but loving someone doesn't justify everything you might do to that person. It doesn't make your behavior any better just because you love them. You can't fix the mess you made with an I love you, the same way you can't fix a broken person with those three little words.

Anyone who tells you that those words have a magical power is feeding you lies, words all have the same importance initially, what gives them worth is the meaning you put behind them. You can tell someone you love them without actually meaning it, and even when you mean what you say, how can the person in front of you know if you're telling the truth?

How can a brain that has been fed with various forms of negativity, see words as anything but evil? Words are peculiar things, the exact same phrase can make you laugh along or make its way into your brain and start to rot in there until every cell is infected.

Messing up and then saying I love you as an apology or an excuse doesn't fix anything, it's not a bandaid you put on a paper cut, it's a bandaid you try to fix on a wide open skull in hopes it'd make up for the fact you are the damn bastard who smashed that skull in the first place.

Words don't mean a thing, unless you put meaning behind them, and despite what you think, the real meaning behind your words always seeps through the holes in the letters.

Brendon's quickly brought back to reality when Brochan's lawyer starts speaking loud and clear to make sure everyone in the assistance can hear him, “Mrs Summers, could you tell the jury and everyone present here what you recall from the night of the crime?”

Almost instantly a few tears start rolling down her cheeks but she doesn't put on a show to make sure everyone knows she's crying, and just for that, Brendon could hug her. At least, if she wasn't about to slaughter him, “I had cooked dinner waiting for my husband to come home, he had called me earlier to tell me he'd stay late to the café for paperwork. But that he should be home by eleven or midnight at worse.”

“And what happened at midnight?”

“Well,” she swallows hard, more tears making their way of out her eyes and along her cheeks, “by midnight he still wasn't home so I started to worry, it is not a habit of him to not call to tell me it'd take longer than he planned. So I kept waiting, until the phone finally rang, and I was relieved and ran to the home phone to pick up when,” she chokes out on her tears and wipes at her cheeks dramatically, “excuse me.”

“Who was on the phone?” Mr. Fletcher invites her to keep going.

“I-it was the hospital, they told me my husband had arrived in an ambulance and that he had heavy injuries, they thought a random bad kid had beat him at first, but then he regained consciousness and he told me everything.”

“Could you be more precise about what your husband told you?”

“He told me, Brendon did it, that he beat him that night and the anger he saw in his eyes, as if he had become a completely other person,” she sobs, “this is the kid we took care of for years after his parents tragically died, we never would have thought he'd be capable of doing something like that. At least not to any of us.”

“Do you remember any instances where the defendant might have shown signs of violent behavior?”

“Well, once when he was about ten years old, him and one of his cousins argued over silly things kids fight over, you know how kids are, and during this argument, Brendon told his cousin that he would kill him in his sleep, in a cold tone that gave us all chills.”

Brendon automatically turns to Anne in surprise, but she's too busy throwing knives in Mr. Fletcher's back to notice, he turns around to glance at Aelyn and she nods slowly as if to confirm it happened and her mother isn't lying. He tries to think back to that day, and remininsce what happened, but his memory is blurry, and for a second he's scared it might have been one of those moments where his brain replaced his memory.

But then it comes back to him, it was at his uncle Tobiah's house, he wanted to play video games and picked one up when one of his older cousins came up and took it out of his hands, saying it was their turn to play. Of course Brendon got mad and started yelling about how he had decided to play first and that he should let him play for once, but his cousin had none of it and went to play anyway. Brendon had stood there with his arms crossed and yes, he indeed said he'd kill him the second he'd fall asleep. But Brendon remembers it, so it wasn't one of his episodes.

He sighs and leans back in his seat, feeling relieved.

“The witness is all yours Mrs. Ross,” Mr. Fletcher says all smugly.

She quickly stands up, and walks up to the stand with firm steps and a determined expression on her face, “Mrs. Summers, you told us that Brendon threaten one of his cousins, when he was what? Ten years old? Don't ten-year-olds fight all the time? For the silliest reasons, like them wanting to eat the last slice of cake?”

“Yes, they do, but when he told it, there was this dark expression in his eyes and-”

“Which is something normal when someone is getting angry or frustrated, have you ever been ten Mrs. Summers? Rethorical question, of course you've been ten. You have been a child, and since then you've been a person too, have you always meant everything you said in every arguments you've ever had?”

“Of course not but-”

Anne cuts her off with a proud, “no further questions, your honor,” and goes back to her seat, not without smirking to Mr. Fletcher who's worriedly biting on his lower lip.

Behind them Aelyn leans towards Ryan and say excitedly, “Anne, one, Fletcher, zero,” as if it was a football game she was attending and not a trial.

Ryan turns to her and smile softly, “I know my mom is a badass she is Anne the lawyer slayer but it is not done yet so contain your excitement please.”

Anne overhears Ryan's words and smiles softly, he rarely talks about his mother with nice words like those, and even less often calls her the lawyer slayer. He used to call her that all the time when he was a kid and watching too many episodes of Buffy the vampire slayer, he had asked her if that was what she was doing at work. She had told him that yes that was what she was doing at work and so this little nickname became a thing. Just like that, Anne is even more ready to kick Mr. Fletcher's ass.

 

***

 

“Your honor, I would like to call my client's cousin Ms. Summers to the stand,” Anne says staring straight to the judge.

Aelyn turns to Ryan in shock, his mom never told her she could be called to the stand, she didn't prepare anything, she didn't prepare emotionally for that. She stays glued to her seat looking at the stand with wide eyes until Ryan leans closer to whisper in her ear, “you can do it, just trust my mother.”

She nods slowly, and finally stands up glancing worriedly at the rest of the family sitting on the other side of the court room, most of them don't even look at her, others simply shake their heads in disappointment and disapproval.

“Ms. Summers can you remind everyone here what is your link to both the prosecutor and the defendant, please.”

“The prosecutor's my father and the defendant is, like you've said when you introduced me, my cousin,” Aelyn says in a shaky voice, Brendon fidgets in his seat, he wants it to stop, he wants to stand up and yell for all of this to be over already, Aelyn shouldn't have to go through this because of him.

“Thank you,” Anne smiles at her in hopes it'd make her more relaxed, “you've known both of the involved parts you're entire life, what is your relationship like with both of them? Starting with your father, are you close to him?”

“No,” she says firmly without hesitation.

“Can you develop your answer please?”

“We used to get along like two ordinary father and daughter, but as I grew up we fell apart because of our different views on things, and now we barely talk.”

“What about the defendant then?” she asks just as firm and determined as ever when she has to speak in court, it has nothing to do with the woman Aelyn is used to talking under regular circumstances.

“We're pretty close, it hasn't always been the case, we even hated each other when we were kids but our relationship evolved in the best way, and neither him or I expected this to happen.”

“If you are close to him, you might be able to tell us if he's ever shown signs of violent behaviors, maybe towards you or someone you know.”

Aelyn swallows hard and glances between the jury and Anne then between Brendon and the judge before taking a deep breath, “once, yes,” she says quietly.

“Can you speak louder miss? I don't think anyone here heard what you said besides yourself.”

“I said it happened once,” she speaks loud and clear.

“Can you tell the court what happened?”

She nods and looks down at her hands, “he had received a bad news that day and I arrived and said something that didn't make its way properly to his head, so he interpreted it the wrong way. He thought I would abandon him, and in desperation he gripped my arms, tightly and shook me,” she takes a deep shaky breath before continuing, “he looked like an entire different person, it was as if someone else had took his appearance and took his place, but besides his features nothing was the same. I got scared and told me to let go of me, which he did immediately and I saw his gaze changing back and I saw fear in his eyes.”

Even though she doesn't look up, not once, she knows Brendon is staring at her, with tears in his eyes, only able to remember it through Aelyn's memories. He bites on his lip and let the tears roll down his cheeks, making sure not to make a sound. His aunt looks, horrified, from Aelyn to Brendon then back to Aelyn, a hand dramatically placed on her mouth while Brochan grumbles something, shaking his head.

Anne thanks her for her time and goes back to her seat. That's when Aelyn gets even more nervous than she already was, she knows that, even though she was firm and professionnal, Anne didn't push too much to preserve her. Mr. Fletcher on the other hand, will not hesitate a second to rip her apart and push her until she cries and breaks down on the stand, in front of everyone.

“Ms. Summers,” Mr. Fletcher starts, fixing his tie, “you told us that you were scared of the defendant at that moment, did you fear for your life like my client has on the night of the crime?”

“Objection your honor!” Anne exclaims, standing up, “this has nothing to do with Ms. Summers' testimony.”

The judge nods and turns to Mr. Fletcher, “sustained, please rephrase sir.”

“Sure,” he clears his throat, trying to keep his composure, “at the time of the events, did you fear for your life?”

“No, I did not, I knew he wouldn't hurt me, an unexplainable sensation, but I was scared yes, scared of what was happening inside his head.”

“You said yourself that he didn't look normal, that he seemed to be a complete other person at the time, so how can you know out of instinct that he wouldn't have hurt you, it wasn't the man you knew standing in front of you anymore. But a much darker one. And that person might have been able to hurt you, in fact, he did, by gripping you.”

“I can't explain it I-”

“Words exist for a reason, use them,” he retorts coldly.

“I-” her breathing quickens, rapidly becoming the only thing she can hear, she closes her eyes and tries her best not to cry, not in front of all these people, “I got scared because when I saw him like that, I realized it meant it happened with the prosecutor as well,” she spits out in one quick almost slurred sentence.

“Do you think Mr. Urie is a threat to his surroundings, then?” Mr. Fletcher asks smugly.

“No, he needs help not a sentence to jail.”

“Are you a psychiatrist Ms. Summers?”

“No but-”

“So you aren't allowed to emit that kind of judgment, no further questions your honor.”

Aelyn gets up and rushes to her seat, her vision blurred by tears, as soon as she sits down she hides her face in Ryan's neck, under the eyes of her family and complete strangers from the jury. Ryan wraps his arms around her tightly and kiss the top of her head, rocking her slowly, glancing worriedly at his mom who's watching in concern, her traits slowly tensing under the pressure of anger growing inside of her.

Brendon turns around red eyed from crying, he tries to reach out towards Aelyn but Anne stops him when the judge look at him in disapproval. He leans back in his seat and crosses his arms like a pouting child, staring at the picture of his mother still lying on the desk in front of him.

“There'll be another break soon Brendon, and you'll be able to check up on her, but until then let me destroy Fletcher's ass. This son of a bitch has no idea who he's messing with, he doesn't get to talk to Aelyn in such a way, he wants to play that game? Two can play.”

“He's a tough guy, how will I handle going to the stand and get questionned by him without breaking down? I can't do it, I can't, I can't face him and the jury and most of my family, and be judged on how messed up I am. None of them know what it's like inside my head, they don't know, but they'll take the right to judge me on it, on something they're not even able to fathom.”

“Breathe and wait a second,” Anne tells him quickly before standing at the exact same time as Mr. Fletcher, “I demand a break.”

“Do you have a valid reason for that?” Mr. Fletcher asks with a raised eyebrow.

“Ms. Summers doesn't feel well and neither do my client, so I think it'll be a good idea to let everyone have a break so that the rest of this trial can go smoothly and in the best conditions possible.”

“Your honor-”

“Twenty minutes break,” the judge brings down the gavel and Anne breathes out in relief, letting herself drop on her seat next to Brendon.

“Now you can take your time to breathe and check on your friend.”

“Thank you,” he blurts out and immediately gets up from his chair to get closer to Aelyn, “are you okay?”

Ryan looks up at him and rolls his eyes as if Brendon asked the most stupid question he could have possibly asked, “what do you think?”

Aelyn pulls away from Ryan and stands up reluctantly, “I'm sorry I broke down and said that about you, but I'm not doing well under pressure and even less in a court room.”

“You don't have to apologize for what you said, _he_ should apologize for talking to you like that and _I_ should apologize for hurting you and scaring you the way I did. You never told me how you felt at that moment, you just calmed me down immediately after it happened, and when we found each other back you still didn't say a thing. Despite how bad the bruises on your arms were,” he takes a loose hold of her hands, scared of holding them too tightly.

“I didn't say anything because it didn't matter, and it still doesn't, it's just a fear I had for about five seconds in my head, it's a minor thing, I can't complain about it. You have it much worse than me on the fear spectrum.”

“Just because someone has it worse than you doesn't mean your feelings don't matter, they do, they always do, always. You give me so much, every day and I'm aware that I'm not giving even just the half back to you, and I'm still far from being the best cousin, I don't deserve everything you give me. But still you give me everything you have in your heart, because you're that kind of person, you deserve the world,” he feels his eyes swelling and soon tears are rolling down his cheeks, “promise me that after all this mess, no matter what happens to me, you'll do what will make you happy, based on your wants and not on anyone else's opinion.”

She laughs softly and shakes her head, “maybe, but I don't have much time to think about that right now, I'll think about it, that's what I promise you. And no you're not the best cousin and neither am I, but to be honest I wouldn't want you any other way, well, seeing you happier would be great, but not anything else than what you already are. I let you date the love of my life so it should be proof enough that I love you immensely.”

He sniffles through a smile and pull her into a tight hug, “I love you even more, even if I suck at showing you my love, and I'll try my best to be the kind of person Ryan deserves, I promise you that. I'll be a better partner for him than you could ever be.”

Aelyn laughs again before bursting into tears which takes Brendon by surprise, “hey,” he soothes, “I was kidding, of course you'd be a better partner than I could ever be, you're the most precious person in the world and I can't understand how Ryan fell for me and not for you.”

“That's not why I'm crying,” she pulls away just enough to look at Brendon, “he fell for you because you're beautiful and sweet and because when he's with you he feels light and happy, and he never wants that feeling to stop. He's in love with you, and no matter how much you try to minimize your feelings, I know you're deeply in love with him too. Everyone is,” she just shrugs.

“Including you?”

“It's way more complicated than that, Ryan and I is an odd story, but I guess I wouldn't mind it if he would have fallen in love with me instead of falling for you, I can't deny that. You know how he is, magnificient in every way possible. A fascinating mystery. The kind of person you don't like, or love but the kind you adore.”

“You'll find someone you'll adore even more than him and you'll settle with them, and be happy with them.”

“Do you really think I'd get _this_ lucky? It's already hard enough to find someone who doesn't see sex as an absolute need, so finding another Ryan, you're asking a lot from me.”

He glances at Ryan who's staring at them, clearly not hearing a word they're saying and smile softly, “you never know what fate might put on your way.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you believe it took me less than a month to write a chapter? While being crazy busy with an internship? Incredible. I hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as I do and that it'll keep you here until the arrival of the next one.
> 
> Until then you are, as always, invited to leave comments even if you think what you have to say is generic or boring or something along those lines, because it will not be, not to me at least!


	25. Chapter 25

“I would like to call my client, Mr. Urie to the stand your honor,” Anne announces to the courtroom.

Brendon stares straight ahead, too scared to get up and out of his seat. He's seen the way Aelyn reacted to the pressure of going to the stand and she's much stronger than he is, there is no way he'll make it through. He can feel Anne's eyes landing on him in a “what the fuck are you doing” way but he can't make himself move, it's as if he was glued to his seat and for a second he thinks he might be.

“Your honor, if the defendant doesn't want to go to the stand he might as well just say it, it is unecessary to make us lose any more time than we already lost with Ms. Summers' little show,” Mr. Fletcher chimes in.

“Ms. Summers did not make a show, she had an emotional breakdown due to your harassing questions during the entire time you questioned her, that's what you wanted you got it, now do not-”

“Who is it you're defending today? Him or her?” he points to Aelyn who staring at him, hoping she can kill him just like that.

“Will you two stop this childish argument so that we can continue the trial? You are the ones who are making us lose time, not Ms. Summers nor Mr. Urie, so act like the adults you're supposed to be and quit that behavior, _now,_ ” the judge lectures them, and it is more than enough to get them to shut their mouths and just look at one another instead.

“Mr. Urie, will you come to the stand?” Anne asks loudly enough for everyone to hear, judged by the tone of her voice she's losing patience with him which is far from being a good thing, not for her and certainly not for Brendon.

He nods slowly and finally get out of his seat, he expected it to be hard, sitting there, facing the rest of the people present there, but it is even harder than he imagined. Seeing his own family staring at him with anger and disgust, disappointment even, it hurts him more than he'll ever admit to anyone, even if they'd ask.

Anne takes a stand in front of him, purposefully standing in front of most of his family, as if she knew how hard it was for him to feel their gazes glued on him, “Mr. Urie, can you tell us what you recall from the night of the crime?”

“Well,” he clears his throat, “I went to the café to help Mr. Summers unpack boxes because he had paperwork to do and couldn't do it himself. I did what I had to do, and then I went home and went directly to bed. At least, that's what I remember.”

“You do not remember attacking your uncle? Not even raising your hand on him?”

“No,” he replies with a shaky voice.

“What about your altercation with Ms. Summers, your cousin, that told the court you had gripped her tightly and scared her? What do you remember from it?”

“I remember we talked about what happened to her father and she said something that lead me to think she was going to leave me, and that she thought I was guilty even though I explained to her I didn't do it. And then it's a bit foggy but I remember her tearing up and the marks on her arms after I let go.”

“Do you remember gripping her?” Anne questions.

“No.”

“I don't have any other questions your honor.”

Mr. Fletcher stands up all proud, “Mrs Summers told the court earlier you've shown signs of violent behavior in the past, and Ms Summers confirmed it by telling us about that day you gripped her tightly, so tightly she got bruises from it. Today, you are here because you are accused of attacking your uncle, the same way you threatened your cousin at an early age, the same way you've manhandled another one of your cousin simply because she thought you were guilty.”

“It's not as easy as you make it seem.”

“Don't cut me when I'm talking, you speak when I ask you to,” Mr. Fletcher spits, “your parents have been murdered right?”

“Yes but-”

“And when the investigation started, for quite a long while the police suspected you in that case, for them to suspect the victims' own son, they had reasons, maybe your tendency to have violent behaviors?”

“Your honor, this is in no way related to today's case,” Anne interrupts.

“Dismissed, the defendant's behavior is perfectly related to today's case Ms. Ross.”

“I was suspected, not convicted for the murder, so maybe it means I'm not as violent as you want to lead people to believe. In an investigation, it is frequent that the first suspect is the one who found the bodies, and in my parents' case it was me, so the police got interested in me first. That's the procedure,” Brendon tries to remain calm.

“Oh, I didn't know you were a police officer Mr. Urie.”

“I'm not, but everyone knows that.”

“Your poor knowledge from watching too much tv shows doesn't make you qualified to look down on me or any person present in this court, so watch your mouth,” Mr. Fletcher says coldly, making Brendon lower his gaze to stare at his hands.

“But I-”

“Did I ask a question?”

“No.”

“So you're not required to speak.”

“Objection your honor, Mr. Fletcher is trying to intimidate my client, basing his accusations on simple speculations, this is not a trial for the Urie couple's double murder, this is a trial for Mr. Summers' aggression,” Anne tries to object a second time.

“Sustained,” the judge tells Mr. Fletcher.

“The violence you've shown in your life more than once is proof enough that you have the capacity of attacking someone, someone of your own family and leave them on the floor bathing in their blood as if they didn't matter more than an insect. And trying the easy way out of facing the consequences of your acts by playing the amnesia card, is in no way helping you, and it shouldn't.”

“I never said I didn't do it, if I was lying about not remembering I would lie and say that I'm certain I didn't do what I'm accused of. But I didn't. I truly don't know if I did it, all I know is that I remember things differently than how they're supposed to have happened. You think it's funny to remember certain events in a way that is not reality?” Brendon's breath quickens as he swallows hard, “you think it's a game to not be able to trust your own memories and mind? You think I wake up in the morning and decide to attack the people I love the most? You think it's fun to be told repeatedly that you killed your own parents when you did not? To the point you start to think you did it, just because you have memory issues? You wouldn't stand to be in my shoes even for a day, and you would stand it even less if you had to sit in a court, stared at by dozens of people, and forced to listen to a man tell you how fucked up and awful you are!”

“Young man, I'll ask you to calm down now or I'll have to ask you to leave the courtroom,” the judge chimes in.

“Maybe you're going to tell us you don't remember this outburst either?” Mr. Fletcher says smugly.

“Trust me I wish I could forget your face, but no, I have to deal with this image for as long as my brain will decide to keep it, and it's punishment enough,” Brendon stares at him defiantly.

“Mr. Urie, last time I ask you to calm down, no disrespect towards lawyers will be tolerated, am I clear?”

“But disrespect towards the witnesses is allowed? Because you didn't say anything when he manhandled Aelyn and pushed her to the point of breaking down, and you didn't say anything either when he went out of his way to treat me like the worst bastard that's ever been in this room,” he sighs when the judge sends him a death glare, “I'm sorry your honor, can I- can I go to the bathroom?”

“You're free to go,” he gestures to one of the security guard to escort Brendon.

“Your honor, this young man just disrespected you in an awful manner, and you're going to ignore it?” Mr. Fletcher whines.

“I heard much worse than that in my career Mr. Fletcher, don't worry about me and focus on your case. Who's next to the stand?”

“My client, the victim, Mr. Summers your honor,” Mr. Fletcher announces.

Brochan stands up from his seat, looking straight ahead, not even glancing in his daughter's direction, despite the breakdown she had earlier, as if it didn't matter to him, the well being of his own daughter. He takes place, taking his time, almost in slow motion, certainly a way to make the jury have pity for him and his injuries, even though he's had plenty of time since the agression to heal completely.

Right as Mr. Fletcher opens his mouth to talk, the double door of the courtroom fly open, letting Brendon and the security guy come back in. Everyone turns to look at Brendon, even his family, he walks back to his seat as quickly as he can, so quickly he almost trips, earning a few chuckles from the right side of the courtroom. Once he's settled the judge asks him if he is now in a correct state of mind for the trial to continue, to which he nods slowly.

“Mr. Summers,” Mr. Fletcher starts, “what has your relationship with Mr. Urie been like in the past? You've known him for his entire life.”

“That's true, I'm his uncle so I got to hold him when he was a baby boy and got to see him grow up. We've always been close, even before his parents' tragic death. He was a good kid, outgoing, always joyful, it was always nice to have him around at family gatherings. When his parents died, Mary and I decided to take care of him and invited him to come live under our roof. It hasn't been an easy task to raise him up, but we truly did our best and tried to raise him in a way his parents would have approved of.”

“And despite giving him a roof and all the love and support you could, he still ran away, right?”

“Yes, after his graduation, we went home and we found a note on the fridge where he told us he was leaving for good, no thank you's, not a nice word, nothing, just that,” Brochan says with a tint of bitterness.

“And that after everything you've done for him, despite having to go through Mr. and Mrs. Urie's deaths and having to raise a child already.”

“Yes, his cousin and him didn't get along when they were younger,” he doesn't even call Aelyn by her name, doesn't even call her his daughter, and it stings, she bites her lip and try her best to hold back her tears, “so we were reluctant at the idea of taking him under our roof, but Mary decided it was our duty and so we did it. And then one morning this ungrateful kid decides to leave without a kind word to the people who took care of him when his parents couldn't anymore,” his tone gets angrier at every word, “and one day he comes back in our lives and I offer him a job and an apartment, and being just as ungrateful as he used to be, he thanks me by beating me up. This bastard never learned what it was to say thank you or appreciate what we give, he thinks we owe it to him, his parents would be disgusted by what their son turned out to be,” he pauses, throwing daggers at Brendon with his eyes, “an ungrateful psychopath faggot,” he spits, earning a few gasps from the jury and the members of the audience.

“Mr. Summers, I'm going to ask you to calm down or I'll be compelled to make you leave this courtroom,” the judge says loudly over the whisperings that started in the room, he brings down his gavel and asks for silence.

Brochan doesn't add anything but continue to stare at Brendon who's absolutely mortified on his seat, he's just been outed to the entire courtroom, to the jury who has to decide of his fate, a certainly conservative jury who'll be happy to lock up a sinner. Anne rests her hand on his shoulder and whisper something he doesn't understand, he can't focus on anything but the rapid rhythm of his heartbeats.

When she doesn't get any reaction from Brendon, Anne stands up abruptly making Brochan jump on his seat, “what was your relationship with Brendon's parents like?”

“Well, Brendon's father was my wife's brother so they were obviously close and when I came into the picture I went along really well with her brother and his wife. We've always been a close family,” he says almost automatically, a well prepared answer.

Anne hums, “was there not animosity between you? It's the case in every family, when you spend most of your life surrounded by the same people, it's normal to bicker and have a bit of a rivalry going on. Or maybe you are an exception?”

“No, of course not, we bickered sometimes but never about anything major really, we truly got along perfectly fine,” he has the same robotic tone but tries to hide it this time.

“You must gotten along amazingly well for you not to fight about the fact Mr. Urie senior, despite his abondant incomes, refused to help you when you've had financial troubles with your café,” Anne mocks surprise so well, she could be an actress.

“Charles has always been a little reluctant at the idea of landing money, but I didn't take it at heart, I knew the way he was and I ended up getting out of trouble so everything was fine,” he handles the question pretty well, but Anne can see his confidence vanishing bit by bit.

“You sure got out of trouble you have a much bigger café than you had back then, your problems vanished away and got replaced by a lot of luck, that's impressive. How did you do that?”

“Objection your honor, we're not here to do small talk,” Mr. Fletcher chimes.

“Sustained.”

Anne apologizes with a smirk, “let's talk about Brendon now shall we? Have you _always_ treated him right when he lived under your roof?”

“Of course, he's my nephew and I loved him.”

“Even after finding out he wasn't straight?”

“Well, I-uhm,” Brochan stutters.

“If you insulted him the way you did in front of all of us a moment earlier then was it not normal for him to drive away? That's what we teach people, to run away from any form of abuse they might be victim of. Was it not normal for him to drive away, then? After having to put up with your vile words, after you did not bother to come to his graduation ceremony. Doesn't look much like the loving uncle savior you told us to be.”

Brochan opens his mouth to say something but Anne cuts him off, “no further questions your honor,” she goes back to her seat with a smug expression.

Brendon looks at her with wide eyes, “why did you have to mention I wasn't straight?” he whispers.

“Because he called you the f word in front of everyone and it had to be adressed, _and_ it opened a door towards a new perspective of your relationship that I didn't find how to bring up until now, so I think what you're trying to say is, thank you.”

“And how did you know for my father and the whole money thing?”

“I'm a good lawyer Brendon, I dig everything I can, do you know when his business got out of trouble though?” Anne asks rethorically, “when your parents' died, you were too young to inherit so the money got on a blocked account, that your caretakers had access to, add to that their part of the inheritance, and it represented a good load of money.”

“My parents' death helped Brochan?”

“That's right, but I couldn't bring it up, I just wanted to make him drop that confidence he had ever since this trial started,” Anne says casually leaning back in her seat, Brendon keeps staring at her in horror, “he has an alibi for that night Brendon.”

“Ms. Ross, who's our last witness?”

“Dr. Garett, the psychiatrist who proceeded to the assessment,” Anne smoothes down her skirt as Dr. Garett takes place, “you have been asked to proceed to an assessment of my client's mental health, can you tell the court what conclusions you've come to?”

“Sure,” Dr. Garett nods, her voice wavering slightly, “Mr. Urie suffers from a rare form of mixed bordeline personality disorder and dissociative amnesia. A person often suffers from one of those disorders but I've personally never seen someone suffer from both, that's why it is rare.”

“Can you explain to us what those disorders are?” Anne's tone is much softer than when they first met at the pre-trial reunion in the judge's office, which makes Dr. Garett more at ease than she was when she first sat at the stand.

“A dissociative amnesia is primarily characterized by a sudden inability to remember elements from the past, in his case it is what we call a localized amnesia, but it could also be a selective amnesia. It is perfectly possible for a person to suffer from both of those types of amnesias,” she says simply before being gestured, by Anne, to keep going, “a localized amnesia is an inability to recall a specific event due to it being a source of intense stress or trauma. A selective one is slightly different, since the person suffering from it forgets only a specific part of said event.”

“Why does he remember a completely different version of reality afterwards?”

“Like I said, the localized amnesia occures when the person faces an intense stress or trauma, in Mr. Urie's case the trauma is caused by his emotions overwhelming him, so his brain shuts down and once he's aware of reality again, it tries to protect itself by creating false memories to fill in the blanks in his memories.”

“Is his brain shut down related to the second part of the diagnosis?”

“Yes it is,” Dr. Garett says more confidently, “in the case of a borderline personality disorder, the patient can suffer from dissociation episodes, but in order to know the frequency and the extent of them I'd have to analyze Mr. Urie's case more in depth. However, a bpd is characterized by highly impulsive behaviors due to the patient's lack of emotions control. In Mr. Urie's case, it also involves strong feelings of anxiety, worry and even depression, along with a persistent fear of rejection and abandonement.”

“So, when he faces a situation in which he feels himself getting abandoned he can lose control on his emotions and act impulsively?”

“Well, he never really has a perfect control on his emotions and impulsive behaviors are more frequent than when facing a triggering situation. But if he faces a situation in which he feels himself getting abandoned, it can trigger his emotions and lead to dissociation, during which his impulsion are much stronger than in normal times.”

“When Ms. Summers doubted him, he got scared about her abandoning him, was he dissociating when he gripped her?”

Dr. Garett nods, “yes, the way he remembers things is a proof that he was dissociating at that moment, memories created by the brain in a defensive attempt are blurry, there are no details in those memories. In the memories he has of the night of the crime, he stated that he didn't remember if the air was cool or warm, he didn't remember hearing anything, not a car honking or loud music playing. He just remembers going home and directly to bed. In normal memories, like the night before his parents' murder, he remembers specific details like the tone of his mother's voice and the wetness of tears rolling down his cheeks. That's the difference between true memories and made up ones. Details of the senses.”

“Is my client responsible for his acts?” Anne asks bluntly.

“Since he has blurred memories from that night we can assume he was dissociating, therefore he isn't responsible for his acts at that precise moment.”

“Thank you doctor, I don't have any other questions,” she turns to Mr. Fletcher with a smug expression, “the witness is all yours.”

He stands up, going rapidly through all the paper literring the desk in front of him, visibly losing confidence, “Mr. Urie, dissociating or not, has violent tendencies, therefore you confirmed he is a threat to his surroundings. He doesn't have complete control of his emotions and acts impulsively, we can't take the risk to let him get away with a crime and let him do it again.”

“Actually, he is more a threat to himself than to his surroundings, patients with a borderline personality disorder, often attempt suicide at least once in their lives, and try again most of the time if they didn't succeed the first time,” Dr. Garett states, “that's why Mr. Urie needs help with those issues, jail time wouldn't be of any help for him, it would actually make his case worse than it currently is.”

“Let this be handled by our jury, would you?”

“Of course, I'm just giving my professional perception.”

“No further questions,” his shoulders visibly slump down on his way back to his seat, which makes Aelyn and Anne look at each other with a discreet winning smile.

The judge brings down the gavel and announces, “the jury is now going to proceed to the deliberation,” he motions them towards the door on his left, “you are free to go as you please, I will just ask you to stay respectful of everyone present and not to leave the building. Dismissed.”

Brendon let out a long sigh, “now I just have to wait.”

“You're going to win this don't worry, I believe in your case Brendon,” Aelyn chimes in, “now can we all go back in the corridor because this courtroom is starting to be suffocating and there's no way I'll stay here any longer.”

They all nod and leave, not before Brendon takes his mother's picture from the desk, they can feel the entire family's eyes on them as they leave, making both Brendon and Aelyn walk faster.

As soon as they're out of the room, Anne sits on the desk in front of the double door, “don't count on me to stay in a standing position my heels are killing me, it's not as practical as you might think to look like a badass.”

“Trust me I know, the best outfits are not the most practical and it's a pain in the ass,” Aelyn says with a roll of her eyes.

“You think the fact I talked bad to the judge will make the jury tougher with me?” Brendon blurts out.

“Anyone could see how much Fletcher was being a dick to you so I don't think they'll be too harsh on you for defending yourself, plus your uncle didn't do better by insulting you, so don't worry too much about that, will you?”

“I can't help but worry, my fate is into their hands and there's nothing I can d-” he's cut off by a pair of hands shoving him making him tumble and almost fall on Anne's lap, he turns around and finds himself face to face with one of his cousins.

“I hope you rot in jail for a long time you freak,” he spits at him.

“Go follow the rest of the family like the good puppy you are and leave Brendon the fuck alone,” Aelyn steps closer, angrier than any of the person present have ever seen her.

“Oh look at you, defending this bastard as if you didn't hate him for the most part of your life, your judgment has always been dubious anyway, it's no surprise you team up with him, whatever he promised you in exchange it's bullshit. Nothing could make you more interesting, you're a lost cause. Or maybe you're just as much of a freak as he is and you have some pathetic crush on him. Too bad for you, he loves dicks.”

Aelyn goes to open her mouth but Ryan steps between her and her cousin, “get the fuck out of here, right now, what makes you think you are better than any of them? Because let me break it to you, you are far from being half as good and lovable as they are. So turn your heels and go eat your uncle's ass like you know how to do so well. I will _never_ allow anyone to talk to them in such a way.”

“Wow, freaks have each others' back, how cute. Brendon can't defend himself, some things never change, right? You replaced your mother with your fuck buddy, how classy of you, your mother would be sick to her stomach if she'd see what you've become.”

Brendon would want to yell at him, to shove him, anything, but instead he just drop on the bench next to Anne and concentrates as hard as he can on not crying, certainly not in front of his cousin. Aelyn automatically turns to check on him, clenching her jaw, “oh that's right, because _your_ parents are so proud of what their son has become, that's why they kicked you out of the house a few years ago.”

He looks at her narrowing his eyes, “go fuck yourself Aelyn.”

“Guess what? I'm a better fuck than you could ever be,” she tells him as he leaves, earning a surprised glance from Ryan, “what? It was the best cocky response I could think of,” she turns back to Brendon and sits close to him, resting her head on his shoulder in silence.

“You didn't have to come defend me, you didn't deserve those insults.”

“I don't care what he has to say, his opinion doesn't matter to me, and of course I defended you, I couldn't stand there like nothing was happening, I'm not like that, you know it by now.”

“Do you think mom would be disapointed in me?” he asks in a small voice.

“No, not a second, if she was still here, she'd be on this bench with us and nowhere else, and she certainly wouldn't be disapointed just because you are interested in men, you know she was above that. Your father probably less, but it's not the matter here anyway.”

“Listen, if _my_ mother accepted my sexual orientation, yours would have too,” Ryan adds.

“Are you implying that your mother is not comprehensive and open-minded when it comes to her own son? Don't be ungrateful young man,” Anne says lazily.

“I did not imply that, but you love to keep appearances a certain way, that is all I am saying.”

“What my son decides to put inside his body and where he decides to put his penis isn't anyone business' but his, and obviously the people he shares his body with but that goes without saying,” Brendon laughs quietly at the way she worded her sentence which almost make her smile, “as long as it's legal you can do whatever you want with whoever you want, if it's illegal though you can go fuck yourself if you think I'll ever defend you.”

“Mother, I am not going to have intercourses with an underaged person or do it without the consent of my partner, I am well-raised I know my boundaries, thank you very much.”

“I'm just saying, just so you know,” she shrugs.

Raised voices that seem to call Brendon gets heard, taking everyone aback, but when they turn to look through the sea of people standing in the corridor, they can't make out any face they might know. Brendon is quick to assume it was just members of his family messing around with him again, he rests his elbows on his knees, sighing.

Soon enough though, he hears his name being called again, more distinctively this time, in a tone that is far from being the same as used by his family, he looks up again and sees Devonne, Jacob and Woolridge walking towards him, determination in their steps. A bright smile spreads on his lips, Aelyn and Ryan aren't the only one showing him support through this.

“What did we miss?” Devonne asks as soon as they reach Brendon, “some of us had to work no matter what today, so we couldn't make it earlier.”

“You missed the whole thing, the jury deliberates right now, but thank you for coming anyway, it means much more to me than you can imagine,” Brendon stands up and hugs Devonne, they've never been close enough for them to hug but now is a good moment to share a hug.

“Did you really think we wouldn't come to show you support?” Jacob tells him with a pat on the back.

“We for sure don't know you much or not as much as we would like to, but then again, do we even know anyone as much as we would like to? We all show a side of us to people and it is a different one depending on who we have in front of us, so even if we'd know you, none of us would know the same version of you,” Woolridge speaks slowly, trailing off into her thoughts before coming back to her senses, “what I meant is that we wanted to support you even though we didn't get to know you _that_ much.”

“Thanks God you translate yourself because you're hard to understand sometimes,” Aelyn laughs, coming to hug her, “thanks for coming guys, this trial has been hell, even for me, so you can only imagine what it's been like for Brendon. But he's been incredibly strong and went through it amazingly well, I'm proud of him, so very much so.”

“You're not cousins for nothing,” Devonne points out, finally letting go of Brendon who's almost instantly hugged by Woolridge who holds him as if she was holding onto a tree.

“I wouldn't have handled things as good as he did, so I still have a lot to learn from him, but thank you.”

Ryan comes to hug her from behind and rest his chin on her shoulder, “you are strong, and you handle things with grace and always do your best to face situations in the best way you can, so I confirm what Devonne said, you are not cousins for nothing.”

“Thanks,” she leans her head against Ryan's, resting her hands on his arms wrapped around her waist, “I had a good teacher.”

“I am glad to help,” he presses a soft kiss to her cheek, tightening his hold on her, “for once you learned something from me and not the other way around.”

“Can't you stop being disgustingly affectionate? You're giving me a headache,” Anne says with a roll of her eyes.

“Don't worry Ms. Ross I've got you,” Jacob winks at her before sitting next to her and pulling her into a hug, “we won't stay out of this moment of affection, don't you worry.”

“Can someone pull this man off of me before he meets my fist?”

Jacob laughs and holds her tighter, “I like bossy women.”

“Oh God, I didn't remember you being such a pain in the ass, did Aelyn rub off on you or something?”

“Hey!” Aelyn protests, “I'm not a lousy flirt, granted I hug people a lot, but I'm not a lousy flirt okay? I'm just clumsy.”

“The most awkward flirt I have ever got to witness to be honest,” Ryan laughs softly.

“Can you stop focusing on me? Thank you very much, it's appreciated.”

“At least, in the meantime the attention is not on me,” Brendon says with a smile, finally getting Woolridge off of him, “and it's relieving, you have no idea.”

“Let's focus on someone else still, let's focus on Jacob and how he wants to woo Ryan's mother when he could literally have half of Las Vegas if he wanted,” she laughs, “Jacob, no offense but she's a bit old for you, she could be one of your mother's friends and it's the weirdest thing in the world. I mean, imagine wooing one of your mother's friends, it's almost as awkward as her wooing one of your friends.”

“Oh thank you for believing in my ability to get whoever I want,” he winks at Aelyn, “are you included in that half of Las Vegas?”

Aelyn laughs brightly, “no I am not interested, it doesn't mean I can't recognize a beautiful man when I see one.”

“True, my beauty is blinding, you can't deny it, I know you hate lying now, so you're forced to admit it.”

“Blinding, sure,” Brendon says through a soft laugh, “so blinding we can't see it.”

“Oh burn!” Devonne exclaims.

“Go fuck yourself, all of you!” Jacob pouts.

“Hey!” Aelyn protests, “not me!”

“No not you, you're the only one who sees my ravishing beauty,” he sends her a kiss which makes her laugh.

“Your group of friends is the weirdest one I've ever met, I swear to God,” Anne rolls her eyes in annoyance despite a smile visibly tugging at the corner of her lips.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello hello it is I! I am back! I intended to post this chapter far earlier but then I started working on an important project that actually had a due date and couldn't write as much as I would have liked to, then I accidentally deleted my long ass notes for this chapter's content (thanks God I have a good memory). So it's been a wild ride but it's finally here!
> 
> Only two chapters left now! (well technically one chapter, since the ending of the ending is an epilogue)


	26. Chapter 26

Soon, too soon even, everyone is asked to come back inside the courtroom, the jury being ready to pronounce Brendon's sentence. However, this time when he enters the room he is surrounded by each and every people who love him, they all came to support him, despite having worked for an entire day and being tired. They made an effort to come. Aelyn and Ryan came too, and it's not like they wouldn't have come anyway, but still, Brendon is grateful for them to be by his side, and for Aelyn to have gone to the stand even though it didn't go well.

Everyone takes a seat, throwing daggers at Brendon with their eyes, they look arrogant and confident, their chest puffed up, a smug smirk tugging at their lips as if they already knew Brendon had lost. For a second he thinks they might already know the decision of the jury, but there is no way they can know that, not even their lawyers know it.

Anne rests a hand on Brendon's shoulder and squeeze to get his attention, “don't worry too much, would you? I know it's easy to say but there is nothing you can do anymore to change what will happen next. You already did all you could, I'm sure the jury won't be too tough on you, they seem like reasonable people unlike your family. And remember I've never lost a trial before, I don't plan to start today.”

“What if I go to jail? Even for a short time, there's no way I'd make it through, even for one day, I know it's cliché but there are some pretty tough guys over there who got in for much worse than beating a guy up.”

“Trust me, you will not go to jail, that's not what I aimed for and so that's not what you will get okay? You will never see those men in jail, and yes it is cliché to assume they're all big and dangerous, but I can understand your point of view. Your brain just tries to scare you so it overanalyses everything in hope you'll freak out,” she gives a small smile, “and I won't let this part of your brain get to you.”

“And how do you plan on doing so? You can't always know what's going on in my head.”

“Brendon,” she sighs, “you're an expressive person, you blurt out your fears every time they overwhelm you, so I have no doubt I will know when you're being delusional, and that's when I'll kick your brain's ass and show it who's the boss.”

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to annoy you with my mess,” he fiddles with his hands pulling his lower lip between his teeth.

“That's not what I said and you know it, if you were annoying I wouldn't be here, saving your ass and trying to cheer you up before the jury comes in,” she pats his back and leans closer, “you can do it sweetie, I believe in your ability to.”

Brendon opens his mouth to say something but a door flies open and the jury walks back to their seats followed by the judge who does the same. Anne rubs her client's back one more time before placing both of her hands on the top of the table in front of her.

A member of the jury, a short woman in a large floral dress, stands up and clear her throat, while the judge asks if the jury have taken their decision, “yes we did,” she says in a loud nasally voice, “for the charge of assault on Mr. Summers, the jury-”

Brendon's heart beats so fast he doesn't understand what's being said after that, he just sees the woman's lips moving, no sound escaping from them. All he can hear are his heartbeats and his heavy breathing, nothing else. The woman sits back down once she said everything she had to, Brendon turns his head groggily, staring at the judge who's now talking, looking at Brochan for a moment, then at Brendon, then at the jury.

The scene seems to be in slow motion, like they always are in the movies when the main character's mind drift off. If only Brendon could be in a movie though, maybe then the scriptwriters would change the plot and turn it into a happy ending, there aren't many movies with a tragic ending. At least, not many that Brendon has seen, but he's more of a comedy kind of guy so he's not a reliable source. If all of this was a part of a comedy, the judge would laugh it off and say that Brendon has been a cheeky kid, he'd get sentenced to pick up trash people throw through their windows on the side of a highway and that'd be it. Or he'd go in prison surrounded by fun guys with whom he'd hang out all the time and create good memories.

He sighs and carefully turns to Anne who's smiling smally at him, something's wrong, something's very wrong, she doesn't look like she could burst out in joy, proud of winning an umpteenth trial. Brendon gulps and quickly look down at his hands, he tries to take deep breaths, counting slowly, and soon enough his breathing slows down, so does his heart.

“- he'll stay under the doctors' supervision for whatever amount of time they judge to be fit,” he catches the judge saying.

He turns back to Anne, confused and scared, “am I going to prison?” he asks in a shaky whiper.

She frowns at him, glancing towards the judge, “did you not listen?”

“I did, partly, but my heart raced and I lost focus,” he admits.

Anne shakes her head slowly, “you're not going to prison Brendon, you're going to stay in a mental facility for a little while.”

Brendon's widen, tears forming visibly, “they're locking me away?”

Just as the words fall from his lips the judge brings down the gavel one last time and announces the end of the trial. Everyone stands up, except for Brendon who's still staring ahead of him, tears now profusely running down his cheeks. One of his cousins approaches and slap the back of his head, chuckling before leaving. Brendon's certain he heard him call him a freak on his way out. He lets his head fall on the table, his forehead hitting the hard wood with a loud bang, almost instantly he feels hands on his shoulders. They're too small to be Ryan's, too delicate to be Anne's, it must be Aelyn, but he doesn't gather up enough courage to lift his head, he just wants to disappear. He wants the world to forget about his existence, and maybe like that he'll vanish, never feel again, never hear, never smell, never see, just nothingness. And once he concentrates hard enough it works, everything stops.

 

***

 

Warmth and a velvety sensation in his hands, are the first things he's aware of, he wants to curse but the words don't come out, he didn't try enough to disappear, he failed. He tends to do that a lot; failing. He then smells a faint scent of raspberry and cologne, two scents that aren't supposed to go along well, but somehow, right now, they do, and it smells comforting and sweet, a bit like home. He tries to open an eye but close it almost instantly, the light being too bright, he hears whispers coming from all around him, it seems, which makes his head spin even though he's not even standing.

His hands are being squeezed and a gentle caress graces his cheek, maybe he's dead and that's what heaven's like, bright light and warmth, a tenderness that feels like home, angels observing you awaiting your wake. If that's what death is like then he probably should have killed himself a long time ago, instead of staying in this hell of a world, hurting constantly. They talked about heaven quite a lot, the one time he went to church, and he didn't understand what was being said, it wasn't a place for a kid. He felt out of place, and when he grew up, he decided that everything told at the church was bullshit and lies. Just because he associated church with his father.

Now, lying or sitting there, he doesn't know for sure, he regrets doubting the priest's words in a moment of rebellion against his father, heaven truly is a wonderful place, where you feel good and safe for the rest of eternity.

He takes a deep breath and try to open his eyes again, instantly seeing a blurry face in front of him, the light still shinning bright right behind, making it hard to make out the person's traits. He blinks a few times to attempt to refocus his vision and is met by Aelyn's face, eyes red, a piece of hair neatly tucked behind her ear. So, maybe he's not in heaven, maybe he's still stuck in the same hell of a world, but even in hell you can catch a glimpse of heaven.

“Hey,” she says barely audibly, squeezing Brendon's hands once more. He looks down at his hands carefully held by Aelyn, so that's the sensation he had in his hands when he came back to his senses.

“Sorry,” he manages to let out.

“Don't be,” she coos him, “you scared us, but it's okay, you're back among us now, nothing dramatic happened, everything's okay.”

“Except I'm being locked away.”

“You can see things that way, or you can tell yourself that you'll get better thanks to that. You're not going to prison, Brendon, that was what we wanted above everything else. You'll get the help you need, and if for that you have to stay at the hospital then so be it,” she looks sincere, as if she truly believed in her words.

“That's by going there that I'll go full on crazy, I just need to learn how to deal with my emotions, and granted, I'm a bit messed up in my head but not to the point of going there, among people with much worse problems than mine.”

“When you go to the hospital because you vomit the whole day and have stomach cramps, you go there to know what's wrong and get something to get better right?”

Brendon frowns in confusion but nod nonetheless, “yes but-”

“And you don't tell yourself, _oh no I don't want to go there, there are patients with worse than me, some have cancers and all_ ,” she imitates his voice almost perfectly which makes a couple of their friends giggle, “because something's wrong and you want it fixed, it's not pretending your case is as bad as theirs, it's just acknowledging something is wrong and needs to be fixed.”

“It's not exactly the same in m-”

“Yes it is. There aren't solely people who are curled up in a corner rocking back and forth frantically, or looking at you creepily saying the voices in their head are telling them bad things. Those are clichés. There are people like that, but they can't have their identity revolve around their illness and what it makes them do, they're humans too. And the schizophrenic person with really bad thoughts will not tell you about it, because they're just as scared of them as you'd be, and they'd know how you'd react if they'd tell you about them,” she sighs, “it's not a game of where you're standing on the mentally ill spectrum, it's about getting the help you need to live properly despite this part of brain.”

“But I don't want to be alone,” he admits smally.

“There are plenty of people there, who could use some compagny, and you have the right to get visits, so don't think you'll get rid of us that easily, I'm not letting you down and none of us will.”

“After all, it's like going to prison, minus the rapes and beatings in the shower.”

“It's not like going to prison, you know why? Because at the hospital, you'll have a bed, a room of your own, you'll have a bathroom and toilets with a door, you won't have to use the toilets in front of your cellmates. You'll take a shower by yourself, not with a dozen of guys who'll gladly check your beautiful ass out, nor with the sensation of humiliation that comes with showering in an open shower. You'll get good food, granted you'll only have a plastic fork but it's still better than the crap they serve in prison. You'll have an appointment with a doctor with whom you'll go through a therapy to help you understand yourself and how you function, a little bit better. In my opinion, it's way better than going to prison.”

“But I want to have times where I can just sit down and forget that my head's not right and watch a movie with my friends even if we already know it by heart since we've watched it hundreds of times. I want to fall asleep in my boyfriend's arms and wake up to the smell of pancakes, that _you_ would have made for me, and I want to get up and see that there are three of them in my plate, or five, but never four,” tears start forming in his eyes, blurring his sight again, “and I want the constant background noise in the apartment that we forget with time but if we concentrate enough we can hear it clearly. It's never silent there, never. I don't want silence, I don't want to have a breakfast cooked by someone I don't know and eat it at a table with not the right amount of people. I don't want my therapist to be the only person I can talk to.”

“I'll call you, we'll call you, you'll get a call from each of us, everyday and by the time you'll go to bed, you'll be tired of repeating the same things to everyone when they ask what you've done of your day. You just have to tell them about your obsession with numbers, they'll understand, they'll pay attention to it, for your well-being. God, Brendon,” she wipes at her cheeks, tears now profusely rolling along them, she doesn't cry often, not like this at least, and it makes Brendon's heart stings, “you'll be okay there, I promise, I'll make sure of that.”

He sits up and pull Aelyn into a warm hug, her tears are the last thing he wants to see, even if a part of him is flattered since it shows she cares about him, “please don't cry,” he whispers, running his fingers through her hair, “I can't stand it when you cry, no one should ever have the ability to make you cry, no one deserves your tears.”

“I just want you to be okay, and the more fate tries to push you to get better, the more you seem hurt,” she sobs against his neck.

He never really thought about things in that perspective, every time something gets him one step closer to getting better he ends up feeling worse than before. As if the idea of getting better forced him to face the fact he's not a completely normal human being with a sane functionning mind. There's no denying possible anymore, “I'll get better, I'll go to the hospital and I'll get better and I'll get back out once the doctors let me out and live a normal life. I'll be okay.”

“I love you,” she mumbles between two sobs.

A soft smile tugs at the corner of his lips, “I love you too,” he sighs, “I love you so much more than I can express to you, out of clumsiness with words and pride.”

“You've always been shit with words, you're more a visual kind of person,” she sniffs a little, “but you're the way you are, I wouldn't want you any different.”

“Shut up or we're gonna cry and there are other people in the room and then it'll feel like a goodbye.”

Aelyn laughs softly, still a bit choked up, “I meant it when I said you wouldn't get rid of me that easily, so there's no way this is a goodbye,” she pulls away enough to smile at Brendon, as brightly as she can manage right now.

“I'll never understand how you can genuinely smile that brightly after crying,” Brendon thinks out loud.

“You wanna know my secret?” she asks through a giggle before leaning towards Brendon to whisper in his ear, “practice makes perfect,” he opens his mouth to speak up but Aelyn cuts him off, “we all have our own path, that's okay,” she shrugs.

Brendon nods, not that he wants to drop it but Aelyn clearly doesn't want to talk about this any longer, so he respects her silent demand. He finally takes a look around him and see Anne, Woolridge, Jacob and Devonne looking down at him with sympathetic smiles, there are also two tall impressive men standing near the double doors, patiently waiting. He turns around and see Ryan with teary eyes even though he looks completely emotionless at this specific moment. Brendon takes his hands in his own and kiss the knuckles one by one, the way Ryan always does to him when he wakes up from a bad dream. It doesn't make Ryan smile the way it does Brendon though. He remains completely emotionless.

“Baby,” Brendon says so quietly he almost mouth the word.

Ryan stares at him, as if waiting for him to keep going.

“Talk to me, please,” Brendon whispers at him.

“What do you want me to tell you?” he asks in his characteristical monotone, almost flatter than usual.

Brendon opens his mouth multiple times before finally speaking, “I don't know,” he admits, “that everything is going to be alright, that you're going to stay with me through this, I don't know, what you usually tell me.”

“I can not stay with you through this, not entirely, I will not be with you all the time anymore Brendon, I will not come to you every evening when I am back from work. I will come back to an apartment where you are not, and you will have a nurse telling you it is time to turn the lights off. We will not be together.”

Brendon licks his lips, his breathing getting quicker, “are you letting me down?” he chokes out.

“How exactly do you want me to support you through phonecalls? How do you want me to calm you down when you freak out? In those moments where you hear what we are telling you but do not listen to our words, I will not be there to hold you and vehicle the emotions you need to feel from your partner.”

“After all of this, you're going to let me down because you won't be able to hug me as frequently as you currently can?” he drops Ryan's hands, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

“It is more complicated than that.”

“No it is not,” he retorts mocking Ryan's tone, “you could have just dropped it a long time ago, when I pretended I didn't love you just so you wouldn't get hurt, if you knew you wouldn't stand by my side through rough times why did you even date me? What the hell happened to all your promises to stay with me and help me and be there for me no matter what?”

“I dated you because I loved you, and I-”

“Loved?”

“I still do. And I meant all my promises, I want to be there for you, I just do not see how I can be, that is all.”

Brendon stares at him with a clenched jaw, his hands curling into fists, twitching so slightly no one notices, at least that's what Brendon thinks until he feels a soft hand lay on his fist, “he's not abandoning you Brendon and doesn't want to either, you two just have to figure things out. It's okay, you guys are okay,” Aelyn says softly, only for him to hear.

He breathes loudly through his nose, closing his eyes tightly, tears starting to roll along his cheeks, “I want him to be hurt as much as I am,” he mumbles through gritted teeth.

“I know,” she whispers in his ear, “but you know it's not the solution, and you know that you guys can talk about it when the shock of your sentence will die down a little bit, and everyone will be inclined to talk. He's not abandoning you, I know him, he's just scared and tries to protect himself, for once.”

“Brendon,” Ryan finally speaks up, “I just do not know, okay? It is complicated.”

“Don't you think it's complicated for me too? I'm the one who's going to be locked away somewhere I know nothing about and where I'll have to stay all day everyday, away from everyone I know and love,” he opens his eyes again and sighs, “if you want to be a coward, at least have the balls to leave me now.”

“I do not want to leave you, I already told you that, but if you have all the answers then tell me how to support you and be there for you when I will not be able to see you face to face, not in the next few months, maybe even a year.”

“I don't have all the answers, but I've always felt like _you_ did, and that's why I always rely on you to tell me what to do, you always know exactly what to say, and you always have witty advices to give. And the moment I need you the most, you don't have anything to say other than that you don't know what to do and you don't know how you're going to support me,” Brendon sobs out in a rush.

“I never pretended to know everything that is an idea you created in your mind, I-”

“Yes, thank you, I know I tend to do that a lot.”

“That is not what I meant Brendon, I do not have all the answers, I am not almighty, hell, I am completely lost most of the time and I take pretty dubious decisions in my life, every day that God makes. So no I can not, always, make the right decisions for you and be a perfect person for you to rely on,” he sighs, “Brendon, I am not as wise as you think I am.”

“I'm not asking you to be perfect, or to be wise or almighty, I'm asking you to be my fucking boyfriend and to act like it. And not run away the second things doesn't go your way, the second I stop being a charity award, the poor little crazy guy that you think you can fix. I'm not something you can fix with love, and my sentence showed you that, and now you don't want to be with me anymore because you know you can no longer be a do-gooder!” Brendon half-yells getting the attention from the two security guards near the doors.

“Wow,” Ryan breathes out, “for your information, when I fell for you I did not know you were messed up in your head, and when I found out something was wrong with you I decided to stay with you _despite_ that, not _because_ of that. No one would be foolish enough to fall in love with someone as messed up as you while being fully aware of that fact.”

Everybody gasps, as if Ryan had just slap Brendon in the face, no one expected that, and certainly not Brendon who stares at him mouth ajar, running out of words.

Aelyn stands up, looking around to see if someone had something to say, “well,” she starts, “I think today has been tough for all of us, a lot of emotions and new informations and I think it's better if we just stop talking now.”

Brendon turns to face away from Ryan and hug his knees, hiding his face in his arms, Aelyn looks at him with a sigh, “Ryan, I love you, you know I do, you know how _much_ I do, but you've went too far. When the incident happened with Dan, you've been tough on me but I sticked with you and I never, not once, said something disgusting to you. You know why? Because I loved you and I knew that for whatever amount of time, I had to be the strong one. And the second _you_ have to be strong for someone, you-” she trails off, shaking her head, “I can't believe you said that.”

“Because of course he did not say anything vile to me in the past few minutes, I am the only one who picked up on that right?”

“It's not about that, Ryan,” she cries out, “you remember the things you've said to me in your moments of weakness and through your breakdowns? It was far worse than Brendon thinking you didn't really love him. After all you've said before, of course he was going to think that. But you weren't supposed to take things a step higher on the staircase of malice.”

“For once, let's not make things about you, Aelyn,” Ryan spits out.

“You decided to be a dick today or what? It's tough for all of us to know that Brendon is going to be sent somewhere far away from us where we won't be able to see him for an unknown amount of time. But we're not all being a dick to each other right now, you're the only one who is.”

He sighs, “sorry, but I could not sit there and let him throw those words at me, I could not, and if that makes me a dick then so be it,” he shrugs and turns to Brendon who's still hiding his face, “I did not mean what I said, I just wanted to hurt you, and I am sorry. Just,” he takes a deep breath and rest his hand on Brendon's back, “I will visit you, I promise, I love you.”

Brendon lifts his head up, his eyes red and teary, “I love you too,” he sobs as Ryan presses a soft kiss on the top of his head before pushing through his friends to leave.

“Apologies, I love yous and a kiss, that's far better,” Aelyn says after a moment of heavy silence, the security guards peek outside of the room then one of them tap his watch when he makes eye contact with Aelyn, “I think it's time for us to go.”

 

***

 

The ambulance ride seems endless, the two security guards are sitting in front of him, Anne on his left side since only one person had the right to go with him inside the ambulance, he said goodbye to the others at the court. They promised they'd call him at the very least once a week and that if he needs anything he can call them whenever he wants. Brendon wanted Aelyn to come with him but she decided to go pick up Brendon's clothes and various belongings at their apartment before joining them at the hospital. That's how he ended up sitting here, in this awfully silent ambulance.

Brendon has no idea how he ended up there, how his life's path led him to this day, he was normal as a child, at least from the way he remembers it. Maybe it's God's punishment for not going to church and turning out to believe what He said was bullshit. His intention has never been to piss God off, but apparently he did anyway and now he has to deal with God's anger. But again, why would God concentrate his powers on one mere human among billions of other humans on the planet? That's a ridiculous thought to have. God doesn't even know who Brendon is, maybe God doesn't even exist for all that we know.

He hopes he does exist though, it's comforting to think there is someone above, and it's better to see millions of atheists realize they've been wrong than crush the beliefs of billions of humans who rely on their faith in tough times. And it'd mean that wherever people go after they die, there's his mother, maybe looking down on him, maybe not, but it's nice to think that she continues to exist somewhere. That his grandmother didn't spend months forming her and years raising her just to take her one step closer to nothingness. That whoever murdered her didn't have enough power in their hands to put a stop to her existence. That when Brendon's day will come, he'll go somewhere where his mother would wait for him, arms wide open, as beautiful as ever. He'd be forever old and she'd be forever young and beautiful, a reminder that she passed too soon.

It's not fair that Brendon is still alive and messing up his life when his mother is, hopefully, somewhere out there. His relationships whether with lovers or with friends, have never had positive outcomes, Spencer got sick of him and he ended up getting murdered, Ryan eventually got sick of him too even though he tries to pretend he's not. He's never had much friends, maybe a few back in Phoenix, but he's certain they forgot about him a long time ago now, probably a couple of weeks after his sudden departure.

His mother on the other hand was friendly with everyone she met, no one really had ressentment for her. She had few close friends but they were almost a part of the family, when she loved, she loved with everything she had, and the targets of her love gave it back to her. She messed up both as a person in general and as a mom, but she never messed up the way Brendon did. And yet he's the one sitting here, not her.

She deserved to keep making the world a better place, the day after she died, Brendon swears he saw the world get duller, as if the colors were faded, the food wasn't as tasty anymore, the flowers' scent barely noticeable. A random person in Hong Kong didn't see this change, or maybe they did, but didn't pay much attention to it. His mother leaving this world changed it, Brendon's certain of it, there's no way the world could spin normally and function normally without his mom.

We all have a moment where things change for us, and we don't always pick up on it, but one day we wake up and we realize that things don't feel the same anymore. And suddenly, we can't think of the last time Christmas that felt like Christmas, or when we stopped looking forward to our birthday or when we stopped being excited at the idea of eating our favorite meal. It just happens. The switch flips and we don't see it, too caught up in our own little routine. And the moment we realize something has changed, it's too late and it's become our new routine and we don't know how to fix it. Almost as if the memories from before that instant it all changed, were made up, a fantasy of our minds, trying to glorify the past. The way we glorify dead people after they're long gone.

Brendon climbs out of the ambulance once it comes to a full stop, closely followed by the security guards, he doesn't get why they're scared he might run away, it's not like he had handcuffs. Anne pushes through the guards though and keep one of her hands on Brendon's back, reminding him she is there and will kick some ass if she needs to. He's surprised by her gesture, he argued with her son less than an hour ago and yet she's here supporting him.

His face lights up the second he sees a piece of a black dress behind a pillar, surrounded by two heavy bags, he wants to run up to her and hug her for the rest of the time he has with her. The guards wouldn't like too much though, so he refrains and walk slowly towards her. The clinking of his handcuffs and the loud steps of the guards are quick to get her attention, she spins around, with all the grace in the world, worthy of a movie scene. She smiles brightly at him, pulling him into a tight hug, earning a tut of disapproval from one of the guards.

“They're going to be away for a long time, let them have their moment,” Anne says sternly.

Aelyn holds Brendon tightly against her a moment longer before pulling away, her hands lingering on his shoulders, “ready?”

He nods, “I don't have much choice.”

She takes a hold of his arm and glance at the men standing right behind them, “would guys be nice and carry the bags for me? They're quite heavy and it's clear Brendon can't do it himself since he's still handcuffed.”

The hospital doesn't look much like an hospital, more like a retirement home, the hall almost looks cozy with plants and paintings on the walls, they're not particularly nice or well painted but they're framed and keep the walls somewhat dressed. Brendon wonders if those are some of the patients' paintings that they do in therapy through creativity sessions, if they even do such things in here. It's not like he has a long history with mental hospitals anyway.

A short woman stands from behind the main desk, she has beautiful curly hair and large eyes almost as dark as her skin tone, she's dressed casually, in a pair of blue jeans and a t-shirt, looking completely out of place. Aren't people working here supposed to look formal and doctor-ish? Maybe some patients are too scared of any form of medical staff so they dress normally in order to avoid any of them freaking out when they cross one another in the corridors.

“Hello, I'm Adelae, I'm in charge of your settlement along with your first visit of the shared rooms so that you can get more familiar with this place,” she announces with a warm charming smile before turning her attention to the guards, “you can leave his belongings here and uncuff him now, thank you very much for your work.”

She's polite, maybe too polite. The guards drop the bags and uncuff Brendon without a single word for him, they nod at everyone as a goodbye and a second later they're out of the hospital. Something Brendon won't do in a long undetermined time.

Adelae then turns to Anne and Aelyn, “if you want to, one of you can visit with him just so it's not too abrupt for him to go from being surrounded by people he knows to not seeing them for a little while. But not the two of you, it is against the rules.”

Anne nods and pat on Brendon's back, “I'll go, I'll leave you two together,” she gives a reassuring smile to Brendon, “you'll be okay here, it's for your good, and soon enough you'll be able to see it, hold on tight sweetie,” she lingers a moment, as if she considered pulling Brendon into an embrace or giving him a kiss, but she does none and leaves without looking back.

Adelae smiles warmly, “we'll now proceed to the visit, don't worry about the baggages we have people for that,” she motions to a couple of men who arrived in the room some time between when they entered the hospital and now, “they'll bring everything to your room while I show you around.”

“I know it's a bit soon to ask that but,” Aelyn starts hesitantly, “when will the visits be allowed? I know there's a certain amount of time where visits aren't allowed, so I wondered.”

“Our rule is to wait for a month, after that you can come visit weekly and depending on how things are going for Brendon, his therapist will either let him have more visits a week or less. But visits aren't allowed during the first month,” she explains professionally, exchanging soft smiles with Aelyn on their way to the shared rooms.

Brendon glances at Aelyn once Adelae is a bit further from them, “are you flirting with her?” he whispers so only her can hear.

She smiles at him and roll her eyes, “not every kind interaction is a flirt, but she's undeniably beautiful, you have to give her that.”

“She is,” Brendon agrees.

Adelae stops in her tracks turning around to face the new visitors with the same warm smile she's had since they arrived, if she keeps smiling like that all day, it must hurt her cheeks really bad at the end of the day. She gestures quietly for them to peek inside the room, a few patients are sitting there, looking perfectly normal, they're not a big group, some are reading a book, sat in large armchairs, others are playing chess, one is even playing a card game by himself.

“This,” Adelae speaks up quietly, “is a room where you can come to rest whenever you want from ten in the morning to ten in the evening, we have a large choice of books and we take requests if there is a book you'd like us to add. You can play board games with other residents, as well. The only rule is to be quiet in order not to disturb others.”

Brendon looks around and sighs a little, he tries to see a piece of himself in the other patients but besides the fact some of them seem to be men, he doesn't see similarities. The room is dimly lit, but still lit enough for people to read without forcing on their eyes, the walls are tan, creating a cozy atmosphere, just like the one in the hall. There are a couple of paintings decorating the walls along with positive quotes framed and dispersed around the room. It doesn't look bad, it's far from being like prison, it's much warmer with nicer and calmer residents, as Adelae likes to call them. Maybe his stay won't be a hard time for Brendon.

They quickly move on to another room, one that's empty, only filled with large tables, “this is where the residents take their meals, the kitchen is over there,” she points to a door in the corner of the room, “the door is always opened when the meals are being prepared, so that certain residents can come and see our chef cook and bring their meal to the table by themselves.”

“Why only certain patients?” Brendon asks tentatively.

“Some of them suffer from paranoia and don't trust anyone with their food fearing poisonning, they refused to eat when they arrived, so we made a deal. They can watch their food being prepared, they bring it to the table themselves but they eat everything that's in their plates. And it worked.”

“That's nice to do that,” Aelyn says, impressed.

“Far better than them not eating or having to force them to eat, that's true.”

Brendon continues to look around the room, stopping his gaze on one specific wall, it's painted in a different color than the rest of them, a light tangerine, meanwhile the other are a simple shade of beige. He thinks for a minute, before turning to Adelae who keeps smiling at him even after seeing him frown.

“Color psychology,” she simply states, “oranges increase people's appetite, so we painted that wall in that tone for that, when everyone is around the table we make sure specific residents are facing this wall. It unconsciously help them eat more.”

“You always pay extra attention to little details like that?” Aelyn asks, surprised.

“Our job is to help our residents, and their surroundings play a big part in their journey, we have to do everything that's possible for us to, to make sure their surroundings are harmonious with what we're trying to make.”

“Wow,” she breathes out, “I'm really glad Brendon gets to be here then, and not in a shady hospital full of creepy doctors.”

“Thank you? I guess.”

“You're welcome.”

The next room is, from the first glimpse Brendon gets of it, a gym room, with various machines, an elliptical bike, two treadmills, weights and a pile of mats neatly rolled in one of the corners. Adelae gestures to the room in general as if looking at it explained it all by itself. Brendon's never been much of a sporty person, but it's nice to know he can work out a little bit when he doesn't have anything else to do. Plus, it gives him a new routine to have instead of walking in the streets he can run on a treadmill, he'll have a killer body in no time. He smiles to himself at his silly thoughts and exits the room shortly followed by Aelyn who's staring at him questioningly.

“Why are you smiling?”

“Just had a silly thought,” he brushes it off.

She wraps an arm around his shoulder and lean her head against his, “it's good to see you smile at your own silliness, it means you're not doing as bad as I thought.”

“Not for as long as you're here at least.”

They follow Adelae to the end of the corridor where a double door leads to a perpendicular corridor, “this is where the rooms are,” she announces heading to the left. Brendon looks around even though there's nothing much to see besides doors on both sides of the walls, they're quite spaced out so hopefully the rooms aren't too cramped up. Maybe they're shared though, after all, maybe he'd rather have a tiny room than a bigger one he'd have to share.

Adelae stops in front of a door that's already open, Brendon notices that it's room number 12 when he steps inside, he sighs a sigh of relief, twelve is a good number. He tentatively look around, and immediately notice there's only one bed, great, he doesn't have to share his room.

The room is a normal size, there's enough space to move between the furnitures but not enough for the room to feel empty. The walls are of a pale mauve, which isn't a color he'd normally like, but knowing about their thing with color psychology Brendon figures it's supposed to unconsciously help him. Maybe help him sleep better, it'd be logical for a bedroom. There's a desk pushed against the right wall, a chest of drawers next to it, both seem to be made in solid wood, contrasting with the walls just enough not to look blend. The bed is against the opposite wall, a nightstand to its left, a door on its right, leading to what Brendon assumes to be the bathroom, at least he hopes so. The arrangement leaves space in the middle of the room where lies a large carpet, his bags carefully sitting on top of it.

This will be his new home for the next few months, maybe years, he doesn't even know yet, it doesn't have a specific smell, but what's certain is that it doesn't smell like home, not one bit.

“I must remind you that no cellphones are allowed, along with razors nor sharp objects of any form, no products containing chemicals, we provide all the sheets and towels and even writing material if you do want some. You can have a journal and a pen but you have to ask to get it sharpened, however you must know that the tip will always stay rounded,” she lists pulling a paper from the file she's been holding the whole visit to hand to Brendon, “here is a complete list of unauthorized objects, make sure there is none of them in your bags, I'm sure our security staff already went through it anyway, but it gives you responsibility, which is a nice thing to keep when moving in here.”

“And what if he wants to call?”

“There's a phone next to the bed, however he can't call whenever he wants to, all the lines are connected to the main desk so that the calls can be supervised, we don't have the right to listen to the conversations though obviously. Do you have further questions?”

“No, thank you very much.”

“Okay, well the visit is now over, so it's time for you to go Ms, but I'll leave you a moment together, maybe if you want to help him unpack, I'll wait in the corridor and then I'll walk you back outside,” she says politely before going in the corridor leaving the door ajar.

Brendon immediately sighs and open his bags, going through them silently, he doesn't look at Aelyn, avoiding the inevitable goodbye he'll have to go through. She sits on the floor and take the list from Brendon's hands, scanning it slowly, “that's not as bad as I thought, I wonder how you're going to shave though if razors aren't allowed, oh right,” she laughs softly, “electrical ones, duh.”

“Are cousins forbidden too?” he asks smally.

She looks up at him, noticing the tears forming in his eyes already, “it's only for a month Brendon, after that I'll come see you as often as I can, and if I have to take a day off at an hypothetical job of mine, I will. You'll be fine here, patients seem calm and nice, this place is beautiful and you have your own room. It's a good place, I'm happy you get to be here and not somewhere scary.”

“You won't forget me? You promise?”

“How could I forget my pain in the ass of a cousin huh?” she smiles reassuringly, “I won't forget you, I wouldn't be able to even if I tried. Since you came back things changed drastically for the both of us, there's no way we would even have had a conversation back in the day. I'm really happy I got to know you, you're a beautiful person whether you believe it or not, you're sweet, and yes you tend to think the world is after you, but it's not. Things happen for a reason, they always do,” she takes his hands into hers, holding tightly, “you beat up Brochan, and it was a bad move but I'd lie if I said he didn't deserve it, karma's a tough bitch. Thanks to that you're here now, and you might not see it as a good thing but it is, you'll get help, you'll learn how to cope with things a little bit better. You won't come out of here as a new man who'll be perfectly sane but you'll know how to pinpoint the signs of a crisis coming up, and you'll know how to deal with it a little more. And _that_ is good for you. And your therapy will solve some of your emotional issues, like your crippling fear of abandonment.”

“I know it's to help me, but I'd honestly rather do it in a setting where I don't have to stay away from the people I love, even if some of them might not even want me around anymore,” he looks down, fiddling with his hands.

“Your little argument with Ryan hurt you, I know that, especially considering the moment it happened, but he loves you, he didn't think before he spoke and it got messy. But he'll just have to accept the situation and he'll come around, he'll call you and even visit you, there's no doubt in that. I'm sure he already regrets everything and wants to run here to see you and hold you.”

“Can you tell him that I love him? I didn't really get to tell him goodbye.”

“Of course I will,” just as she's about to speak again, Adelae peeks in the room still smiling, telling them that Aelyn has to go now, Brendon sits up straighter looking frantically between the door and Aelyn, tears profusely rolling down his cheeks.

“Just a minute,” Aelyn says politely before pulling Brendon into a tight hug, “don't you worry, you will be okay, and I won't forget you I promise, the first day the visits are allowed you can expect me showing up to see you. And if you need anything you can call me, at any moment, even if it's just to hear me, you can call me, okay? Promise me you'll call if you need, even if you think you'll bother me.”

“I promise,” Brendon chokes out quietly from where his head is resting on Aelyn's shoulder, he clings to her tighter taking in a shaky breath, “in return you have to promise me to take care of yourself, think about yourself, not always the people you care about.”

“I promise,” she laughs softly, “as long as you do the same, I will.”

“I have a team who's paid to take care of me so I'll be fine, I guess.”

“That's the kind of things I like to hear,” she presses a soft to Brendon's temple before standing up, “I guess I have to go,” she smiles sadly, holding her hand out to Brendon to help him get up.

He turns to Adelae who's patiently waiting at the door, “can I walk her back out with you? Please?”

Adelae nods slowly, taking a step aside to let them walk in front of her, the walk back to the hall is silent, Aelyn holding Brendon's arm tightly, as if she needed it to stay in a standing position. The hall is empty, except for the two men who brought Brendon's bags in his room earlier, it always feels odd when a place that's supposed to be filled is left empty.

“So,” Aelyn starts awkwardly once they reach the door, “take good care of him,” she tells Adelae who nods firmly, “hold on, I know you can do it, always remember that.”

“I will,” Brendon whispers, tears still running down his cheeks.

“It's not a goodbye, more of a see you later,” she kisses his wet cheek and smile at him one last time before pushing the door open.

Brendon stays there, looking at her walking towards the car, she doesn't have her license and yet she drove all the way there to make sure Brendon had clothes. Thanks God, Anne waited for her to come out or else Brendon would've been worried about whether she made it back to her apartment or not. She climbs on the passenger seat and glance at the hospital one last time, waving at Brendon with a soft smile on her lips. He knows that the second she'll be out of his sight, she'll start crying, but she keeps her composure for Brendon, she always has to be stronger one even when she doesn't feel like it.

Soon enough, the car gets out of sight and Brendon has to go back to his room to finish unpack his belongings. He lets the tears roll down his cheeks freely, now that no one is here to look at him. Once he took all of his clothes out of the bag, he notices a piece of paper at the bottom, he takes a hold of it and pull it out. It's a picture. Of him, with Aelyn and Ryan when they spent Christmas at the cabin, they're wearing their ugly sweaters and yet they're all smiling, big and bright. He lets himself smile a small smile through his tears.

As Aelyn said, _it's not a goodbye, more of a see you later._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this was the last chapter of Ultraviolence! The Epilogue is coming up soon though so it's not the moment to say goodbye yet!
> 
> I've been really emotional writing this chapter, I cried a lot, and I hope you loved reading it! 
> 
> Leave comments if you can (and I know you can)!


	27. Epilogue

“So, what do you think of your stay so far?” the psychiatrist asks Brendon, it's his first appointment so he didn't know what to expect from him, but just like everyone else working at the hospital he's charming and welcoming. He must be in his early fifties, judged by the little wrinkles on the corners of his eyes, and the few grey hair starting to appear in his dark brown hair. He's sitting with his legs crossed, hands placed on his leg. He smiles at Brendon encouragingly, hoping it'll help him speak up.

Brendon's been here for a week there's not much he can say about what has been going on in here, it's far better than he expected, there's at least that. There's a specific routine to follow, and he misses being free of doing what he wants when he wants. Everybody has to get up at 8:00AM and go in the “meal room” by 8:30AM to eat their breakfast, after that they are free to wander around except for those who have their appointments planned. At midday, they all go back in the meal room to eat lunch, after that they are conveyed to paint (on Tuesdays and Thursdays), go to a group therapy session (on Wednesdays and Fridays), or expressive collages (on Mondays). Then dinner at 7:00PM, free time, most of the times phonecalls, then everybody goes to bed by 10:00PM. There are special nights though as on Friday evenings where it's games' night and Tuesday nights which are movie nights.

He can't use his laptop anymore, can no longer use a hairdryer or wear his favorite hoodie because he didn't find a way to take off the drawstring. They said they'd keep it so that the first person who'll come visit Brendon will take it back home with them. But what he misses above all else is feeling a little bit lighter than he does when he's all by himself, the silly jokes and insignificant conversations that always make him smile. He misses Aelyn. His teenager self would defenestrate himself if he'd find out about how attached to Aelyn he got, they're both different people now, they've grown up and grown closer. She's the only one who's been here for him through the ups and the downs, even though it wasn't always easy and she didn't always understand him or his behavior. A bit like his mom would have.

His nightmares keep making their ways into his sleep, not every night but still too often to his liking. He doesn't get much sleep at night, his mattress is too firm, the nurse told him it's good for the back to have a firm mattress, so he's stuck sleeping on what feels like a layer of bricks.

“Fine,” he lies, “my stay has been going fine for now.”

“Brendon,” the doctor sighs, “if we want this to work, you need to tell me the truth, there won't be any punishment for your honesty and it won't decrease the quality of your treatment here.”

Brendon's a bit taken aback by that, usually, when you lie to someone convincingly enough they buy it or at least go along with your lie, they never call you out on it, expecting to get the truth after that.

He clears his throat, “it isn't as bad as I expected it to be,” he admits, “but I miss being able to do simple things, I miss my loved ones and sleeping on a soft mattress.”

The doctor smiles a little bit, visibly satisfied to get the truth, “it's a new way of living that you have to get accustomed to, it is perfectly normal that you have troubles with the way activities are organised. But you will get used to it, there is no doubt in that. Also, the visits start in just three weeks now. You just have to be patient, your loved ones won't go anywhere.”

“You don't know that, maybe they won't want to come see me, it's a bit tough to accept the idea of going to visit your friend at the mental hospital. Because if you do, you have to accept your friend's mind is a weird malfunctionning place.”

“If they can't accept to come visit you in a mental hospital, then they aren't people you should consider as your friends or loved ones. It can be tough to accept, that's true, but if they love you, they want the best for you, they want you to get better, so they'll come around, and a month is a good amount of time for that.”

“They can't take all the blame though, it's not easy to deal with someone like me, it's not exactly easy to love me, so if they want to give up I can understand,” he shrugs.

“What do you mean by 'someone like you'?”

“Crazy?”

“Mentally ill,” the doctor corrects, “why would you call yourself crazy?”

“Because I am?” he asks hesitantly, “I don't have much other terms to use, either crazy or messed up, they define me quite accurately.”

“Those are negative terms, you view this part of your identity as negative, but it is simply a part of yourself, and so you need to accept it. If you don't like a feature of yours, you describe it with negative words, you're harsh on that feature, but once you accept it as a part of you and who you are, you start being nicer. You still don't like it, but you respect it the way it is. It is the same with your brain.”

“But if my nose is too big it doesn't affect anyone, my brain affects those around me, and they think they can handle it but then realize they can't so they leave,” he trails off, looking down at his hands.

“Do you have a specific person in mind?” it's a rethorical question obviously, Brendon knows that but it's meant to push his explanation, to get it off of his chest, except he can't. You can't tell your therapist that you have trouble with your boyfriend on the first appointment. Well, you can, but it's better not to when you're a man yourself.

“Nobody.”

“What did I tell you about lying?”

“I have Ryan in mind when I say this, he's-” he pauses biting on his lower lip before taking a deep breath, “he's my boyfriend, or maybe ex, I don't even know.”

The doctor nods slowly, unfazed by what Brendon just admitted, “why do you think he might be your ex-boyfriend now?”

“He got upset when I got sentenced to an undetermined time in here, he said he couldn't be here for me, that he couldn't support me the way he wanted to because I have to be here and he can't be here with me. He sounded like he was giving up on me,” his eyes begin to sting which makes him shut his eyes tightly, “he promised he wouldn't, but after all, he did anyway.”

“Was it the case or was it the way you perceived things?”

“He didn't come with me when I moved in here right after the trial so it's proof enough that it wasn't a product of my mind. There is no way he wouldn't have come with me in normal times, he's the kind of person who wants to be there through every important moment even the not so important ones. Just because he wants to live them with me, and support me, he knows when I need him. He knew I needed him, but he left nonetheless, and I don't think he'll come visit me.”

“With the recent events,” the doctor starts, “was Ryan used to be your pillar? The one who you can rely on, the strong one in your relationship?”

Brendon nods slowly, “he always had wise things to say to me, or advices and the rare occasions where he did not, he still held me until I felt better and calmer.”

The doctor hums, “so to him, his role in your relationship was to be strong for the both of you in a situation like the one you've gone through together, he's used to this idea. And so, when your sentence got pronounced, he panicked at the idea of not being able to be that figure for you anymore. If he can't fulfill the role he thinks he has to have in your relationship, then he starts thinking that his presence is vain,” he pauses, making sure Brendon is still listening to him, “when he'll realize that he can bring more to your relationship than just being strong for you, he'll come around.”

“And if he doesn't?”

“You think he won't?”

“I don't know, our relationship started in the middle of all this mess, so we never really got time to live our love in a peaceful time. So sometimes, I wonder if what attracted him towards me was not the feeling of being a good samaritan rather than who I am as a person outside of this mess. People tend to do that, they see someone doing bad and so they think they can fix everything, because it makes anybody feel good to help people, and when they realize the task isn't as easy as they thought, they quit. They move onto another sad soul, and we're left with more wounds to heal,” he sighs and play with his hands silently for a minute, “mentally ill people are endearing to those with a sane mind, until the illness in question gets in the way.”

“It makes them feel more important, it gives them a purpose and every human is in constant search of their purpose,” the doctor nods, “but it doesn't prevent them from actually having affection for you, in their own way. If you feel like your relationship benefits to them more than it does to you then it's a sign you should cut ties with them.”

“And when it's the other way around?”

“What do you mean by that?”

“When I'm the one who benefits from our relationship more than them, when they give me a lot but I can't give it back to them because I'm not a completely functionning being.”

“It depends, if you truly are the one who benefits from it the most, you sit down and have a conversation with the other person so that you can know what they're thinking and either work it out and decide to stop. However, when it is not the case but you feel like it is, having a conversation can push aside this wrong idea. But if you are in a state of mind where you can get paranoid, then whatever they can tell you will not be heard by you but twisted in order to fit your fears,” he sits straighter, leaning his elbows on his desk, “in those cases, there is no magical solution, each person has their own copping mechanisms, what works for you, doesn't work for your brother or your boyfriend. Of course there are people who have the same mechanisms as you do, but it's rare.”

“So I have to learn how to make the difference between facts and my paranoia?”

“Not exactly, since your paranoia alters your analysis of facts, but it is the idea. For example, if a friend of yours doesn't call you for a week, the fact is that they didn't call, that's it. If you stop there, you can't be upset or frightened. However, if you start thinking about the reasons why the person might have not called you, then paranoia makes its way inside your head. And suddenly, you think that this person is getting sick of you, that something might have happened to them along the way, that they're hanging out with someone they love more than you. But that's analysis, suppositions. When they simply didn't call in the past week. If you stop at the facts your emotions can't get in the way because no emotions are involved in what is factual.”

“So, with Ryan, the fact is that he said he didn't know how to help me, but my emotions analyzed it and turned it into him telling me he was letting me down and didn't want to be here for me anymore. Right?”

“Yes,” the doctor nods with a soft smile, pleased that Brendon applied it to his own situation, “that's exactly what it is.”

“And so, when visits will be allowed, there is no way we can know if by then he'll know what to do, so any thoughts put into it just makes my emotions come into the equation and makes me create scenarios in order to make my fears grow.”

“With a state of mind like that, what do you have to do related to that situation?”

“Sit and wait?” he asks hesitantly.

“Exactly,” he checks the clock on the wall behind Brendon and smile sympathetically, “our session is over, I will see you on Friday morning, until then, think about what we talked about today.”

 

***

 

 _Damn,_ Brendon thinks, _I put too much blue_.

They've been asked to paint what they think represents them as individuals, expressing their strengths and weaknesses through visual art. Brendon decided to draw a grey wolf with a botfly on his head, facing a panda holding a koala, he didn't put much thought into it, he just remembers seeing images of what a botfly could do to humans and it stuck to him until today. Pandas and koalas are sweet animals, so maybe he doesn't completely see himself as a violent person.

Jesse is sitting next to him painting a skull with colorful letters and numbers floating above it, it does represent them quite well in Brendon's opinion. He's got to know them a little bit since the first time they talked on his second day at the hospital in the common room. They played cards even though Brendon sucks at it, he thought it'd be a good idea to break the ice, he lost obviously, but after that he knew one more patient than he did previously. They're not much talkative when it comes to themselves even though they're great at small talk and other various subjects that don't involve them. Other than that, no one knows anything about them, neither their age, nor the reason why they're here, nor their gender. Only the doctors and nurses know since they have their file but no one else. Jesse remains a mystery to every one.

The first thing that striked him the first time they talked was that they had a feminine radio voice, the kind you are slightly taken aback from hearing from a regular person you meet in your ordinary life. People working at radio stations are tough to picture as persons, mostly because their appearance almost never suits their voices. But also because we are so used to hear their voice and only that, that their voice becomes its own entity. So when we hear someone in front of us speaking with that type of voice, it's as if two persons were colliding and it feels both surprising and wrong. A bit like a badly dubbed advertisement.

The second thing that striked him was that when he spoke, they moved their mouths at the same time as he did, his initial thought was that they were silently repeating was he was saying or that they were rehearsing what to reply once he'd be done talking. But soon enough he noticed that they weren't forming sentences, they were counting, counting every word that came out of his mouth. He never dared to ask them why they were doing it, it could hurt them that he noticed and pointed it out so blatantly. So Jesse remains even more mysterious, even though he has one more information about them now.

“Wouldn't you happen to have glitter?” a quiet voice comes from his left, causing him to jump.

“No I don't, in fact I don't think we have glitter in here anyway, try to ask Margaret, she'll be more helpful than me.”

“Thank you,” the man sitting next to him says with a soft smile before turning and trying to get the nurse's attention.

He let his eyes linger on the back of the man's head for a moment before going back to his painting. He's the second person he's got to know here, his name is Rafe and he's much less mysterious than Jesse, he's a twenty-one-year-old who arrived at the hospital a couple of months ago. He's the quietest guy Brendon has ever met, his sentences are always brief but when it's your turn to speak he listens intently as if what you had to say was all that mattered in his world. He tends to stare, too, which is slightly uncomfortable at first but it quickly turns into a comforting stare. He has a little sister whose name is Jane, she's not a teen yet but “she'll be too soon” as Rafe once told him. His parents are a modest couple living a three-hour-drive away from the hospital but they still visit him every week and call him every night before he goes to bed. And ever since they started doing that, not once have they forgot to call or visit.

None of them like to talk about the reason why they have to stay here, but inside a conversation, Rafe let slipped a part of the reason why he's here. After his third attempt at suicide in the span of six months, his parents and his doctors decided it could no longer continue that way, suicide shouldn't be a habit to him. And so they decided it was better if he'd stay in an institution able to help him with his severe depression. There might be a few other reasons why he is here, but he didn't mention it, and, once again Brendon wouldn't dare to ask.

“Glitter,” Rafe mutters showing Brendon a tube Margaret just gave him, he's smiling brightly, and enthusiastically pour glitter on one of the clouds he's painted. Rafe is a bubbly person, from all the stereotypes you can see everywhere all the time, it's easy to think every suicidal person is mourning all day long with a sad face. No one ever shows you suicidal people who laugh brighter than you can, who are enthus by simple things such as having glitter for their painting. Even when you suffer from depression you have moments of joy, they might be short or inconstant, but they still exist. The world isn't in black and white for them, it still has splatters of colors here and there.

Rafe tap his glitter a bit too forcefully on his paper, accidentally throwing some of it on Brendon's painting, Margaret gives him a stern look, “Rafe, be careful with the glitter or I take it back.”

He nods slowly and mutter an apology to Brendon who smiles reassuringly, “it's okay, I have a piece of you on my painting now, so it's nice. We have to paint ourselves so it includes our surroundings.”

“It's nice,” he pauses, “to have someone who wants me around,” he looks down at his painting and bites on his lower lip, “sorry.”

“Don't be. It's nice for me too.”

 

***

 

“I'd like to watch an old movie tonight, it has been a while and I love watching movies in black and white,” Emily proposes when Margaret asks them which movie they'd like to watch on this movie night. Emily has a sweet innocence to her and a high-pitched voice, she's childlike, large green eyes and a slight pout always tugging at her lower lip. She doesn't seem to be close to anyone in here, but she always talks to everybody as if they were her closest friends, she often stays with Alexa though.

Jesse sighs from next to him, muttering something he thinks sounds like “I hate old movies, bunch of dead people.” They're not completely wrong, most of the people starring in old movies are dead by now, so seeing them on screen, in their youth, is uncomfortable in some way. But the good thing that comes out of it is that those people will never truly die, you just have to put on a movie they starred in and they're back to life, moving and speaking, laughing and crying. A revival of the dead. Brendon is okay with watching an old movie even if it's a bad one, because that way he'll make a dozen of people live a little bit longer.

“Double Indemnity is a good movie,” Rafe suggests enthusiastically, “there are deaths in the plot but we don't see them actually dying,” he points out for Alexa who can't stand even a drop of blood in movies nor seeing people dying on screen. It's hard for her to dissociate reality and what happens on screen, so witnessing someone dying on screen impact her just as much as if she were to witness a real death. They once watched a movie no one had even watched before, Rafe told Brendon the previous movie night, and there happened to be the death of the main character at the end of the movie, which resulted in Alexa staring wide-eyed at the screen while everyone stared at her worringly. The following week, they watched a movie at least one of them had already watched and they've been doing that ever since the incident.

They are a dozen of patients in this part of the hospital, a total of about fifty if you count the other two buildings that surround the garden, and each of them always make sure to respect everyone's needs. Brendon thinks it's beautiful, and a nice change from the world he's been used to, he doesn't know if it's that way in other mental hospitals too, but he hopes it is. He didn't get to know everyone yet, only Rafe and Jesse, at least a little bit when it comes to Jesse, he knows a few things about Emily and Alexa thanks to Rafe who always listens intently to everyone. But other than that, his knowledge on his fellow patients stops at knowing their names.

Margaret puts the movie on and everyone goes silent, which is nothing new for Kyler who never speaks to anyone, no one has ever heard his voice since he's arrived, apparently, he only speaks when he's in therapy.

Rafe hugs his knees and rest his chin on them, looking at the screen with wide gleaming eyes, a soft smile tugging at the corner of his lips. The kind of expression someone has when they watch their favorite movie, or something they love deeply.

Brendon looks around and see everyone intently watching the movie, in those moments you wouldn't think they're in a mental hospital, that they all have their own mental disorder to deal with. They look completely normal, as if they were just friends watching a movie in one of their living rooms on a cold Friday night.

He's not too bad here, after all.

 

***

 

A month.

It has officially been a month since Brendon arrived at the hospital, technically, it'll be a month in late afternoon but he doesn't think the doctors count the hours as well. So it's been a month.

Visits are now allowed which means that anybody can come visit him, he doesn't keep his hopes too high that Ryan would come and say hi at least to check that everything is going fine for him. Dr. Murtaugh told him to stay focused on facts when he feels his mind reading too much in other people's behaviors but he still hasn't mastered that yet. He wouldn't be here if it was that simple to change his destructive habits, anyway.

After all, living without a phone or laptop isn't that hard to do, life is much quieter, and he's forced to find other things to entertain himself which is a good thing. Doing the same things all the time can get tiring after a while. He's still not used to have to use an electric shaver with a nurse staring at him, in case he'd want to hang himself with the cord or electrocute himself by dropping it in the water. They don't have baths though, so he doesn't see how he could do that, but he guesses that people will come up with the craziest ideas when they truly are desperate to end it or hurt themselves.

His mattress got a bit softer now that he's slept on it for a month, it's still too hard for him to sleep properly though.

He's started taking his medication too, for what can be partly fixed with them at least, such as his antipsychotics and sleeping pills that help him sleep more peacefully and have less nightmares bothering him at night. He doesn't feel a big change but Dr. Murtaugh told him his brain can take a while to get used to it, until then he has to pay intention to eventual side effects and tell him about them so that he can check if it's normal and will fade or abnormal. In the second case, he'd prescribe him other antipsychotics.

He feels calmer and more tired than before he started taking them, but it's nothing major, he doesn't feel like that everyday, and maybe it's just a coincidence. He might just be tired from sleeping badly for the past thirty nights.

“Brendon,” a soft yet panicked voice calls from the doorframe, Brendon looks up and see Dorothy standing there awkwardly, at least he thinks it might be Dorothy or maybe it's Tisha, they look extremely similar, “wouldn't you happen to have seen my leg?” she asks smally.

He frowns and glance down at her legs, both definitely here, when he gets back up to her face she's biting on her lower lip, clearly nervous of having to ask him that. She must be delirious, he can't tell her that both of her legs are still here attached to her body, she'll think he's mocking her and she wouldn't believe him. He can't tell her he hasn't seen it either because it'd be a lie, and once she'd get out of her delirious state, she'd get upset that Brendon didn't try to help her. He thinks for a moment before taking a deep breath and saying, “try to ask Margaret or Adelae, they might be able to help you.”

She smiles tightly, her panic growing, “thank you,” she says quickly leaving his room.

He continues to stare at the doorframe a moment longer after she's gone, he didn't lie to her, and he hopes it didn't upset her that he told her to go see the nurses, he just didn't know what to do. The only time he had to face one of the patients going through a crisis was when Alexa was convinced a man was staring at her through the window of the common room, the only way Brendon found to help her was to go outside and wave at her through the window. He had moved around a little bit to show her that no one was around him, after a couple of minutes her face softened and she smiled at him through the window.

It was a minor crisis, otherwise he wouldn't have been able to calm her down just like that, but that time it worked. However, with Dorothy (or Tisha he's still not sure), he couldn't help her because it didn't involve someone else, it only involved her and her body parts. He could have maybe touched her legs to let her know that if she felt his hands then she still had both of her legs but her brain would've probably not processed the sensation and he'd have seem like he was mocking her.

He made the right decision, he's sure of it.

Brendon hears a soft knock on his door, he looks up and see Adelae standing in the doorway, smiling brightly as she always do. He sits straighter and wait for her to speak but she doesn't, just look at him as if she was waiting for permission, he raises an eyebrow and her smile gets brighter, he never would have thought it to be possible.

“Someone would like to see you,” she announces before leaving, letting a woman in a beautiful sky blue dress enter the room, the most beautiful smile plastered on her face.

Brendon's eyes widen, tears growing quickly as he gets up and run into his cousin's arms, she still smells like raspberry, that's something that didn't change. He holds her tightly against him and so does she, if they continue like that one of them might suffocate before they have the chance to pull apart and exchange a word.

After a moment, he pulls away reluctantly and hold her at arms length looking at her from head to toe and back up, her hair is shorter and lighter than the last time he saw her, more of a light brown with a ginger undertone. She looks just as beautiful as she did a month ago, maybe even more, she's glowing. Brendon smiles softly, even though he can't help but think she's happier now that he's gone.

Fact: She's glowing, she's beautiful. That's it.

“You're beautiful, so very much so,” he breathes out.

“Thank you,” she smiles brightly at him, and spin around, “you're beautiful too, you look,” she pauses searching for the right word, “more peacefully,” she nods firmly, satisfied with her choice.

“Thanks,” he glances down at his feet, “I hope I do, I'm doing far better than I thought I would so, it's a good start at least.”

“You're doing good here then? I'm so happy you do, I was worried you might feel uncomfortable or overall unhappy being here, but I figured that if you'd have felt incredibly bad then I would have gotten a call. God, I am so happy you're doing good,” she pulls him against her once again, running her thumb on the back of his neck.

“What about you? How have you been doing in this past month?”

“Good, as always,” she laughs lightly, “I missed you dearly though, the apartment is not the same with one less person living in there.”

“I missed you too, way too much,” he says quietly.

“So,” she pulls away with a smile, “how's life in here? Did you get to make friends? How is your therapy going? Is the psychiatrist nice with you?”

Brendon laughs softly at Aelyn showering him with questions, “life here is nice, it's different from outside as you might expect, but I got used to the rules quite quickly, a little bit less to the restrictions. I can't shower with the door locked, or use an electric shaver all alone in the bathroom, that kind of stuff, but I survive. The other patients are nice people, you were right, they're not clichés at all, our illnesses don't affect us to the same extent but we co-habit wonderfully, really. I got to know two of them, Rafe and Jesse, they're nice people, it's nice to talk with them, especially despite the age difference with Rafe,” he thinks a moment trying to remember what else Aelyn asked, “my therapy slowly evolves, we take our time with what subjects we explore, and it doesn't help that I didn't talk too much during our first few appointments. But I'm slowly getting used to open up to a complete stranger, so there's that.”

“Look at you, trying to find positive things to say about each part of your life here, I'm proud of you,” she brings one of her hands to her chest like a proud mother, “I can't wait to see you get even better.”

“Yeah, me neither,” he smiles smally before grabbing her by the arm, “I'll show you around a little bit now that I know the place better, and that I know about our vast garden. You'll see, it's gorgeous and a perfect shade of green, you'd think you suddenly got stuck in a cartoon.”

Aelyn quickly found out that what Brendon said was true, the garden is vast and a beautiful apple green with wooden benches and tall trees, there's even a piece of the field covered in flowers carefully taken care of by what seems to be a patient. She looks around, surprised by the beauty of the place, wide-eyed as a little kid in a candy store, she smiles to herself before turning to face Brendon, who's already staring at her fondly.

He's always found the way Aelyn's traits change when she sees something new, something she finds interesting or beautiful, absolutely endearing. She looks appeased and amazed, as if she was seeing the world for the first time in her life, he'd love to see the world through her eyes sometimes. It must be beautiful.

They take a seat on one of the benches under one of the trees, a soft breeze ruffling Aelyn's hair, she laughs and push her hair out of her face, “I'm not too fond of eating my hair.”

“Oh really?” Brendon pretends to be surprised, “I love eating hair for meals,” he jokes.

“As long as you don't eat mine, it's fine,” she laughs softly, “so, you were right, this place is absolutely gorgeous, I'm kind of jealous you get to walk around here every day, it's so beautiful.”

“I know, it's my favorite place here, that's why I wanted you to see it, it's always calm with birds chirping and the sounds of the wind through the leaves of the trees. I think that's even my favorite place in the world, maybe besides the cabin in Stateline, but it's a really close second.”

“You're good here,” she says absently, “you're doing good.”

Brendon frowns a little but decides not to adress it, “I was wondering,” he starts, hesitant, “do you think Ryan will come visit me?”

She looks up at him, raising her eyebrows, “you want him to visit you?”

“That's not what I said, I just asked if he would come.”

“Listen, he's doing well, but that's all I really know,” she admits, “I can't tell you if he'll visit you or not because I don't know, maybe he will, maybe he won't. We argued when I went back home after dropping you here and he left, he came back two weeks ago, apologized and moved back in. In fact, he never really moved out, his stuff stayed at my place anyway. He told me he had to find a way to support you even though he can't be by your side, but after that, we didn't exchange much more than small insignificant stuff.”

“Is it because of me that you're not as close anymore?” he asks panicked, a part of his brain tries to remind him to focus on facts but another part just tells the first one to go eat dirt.

“Oh no, no, not at all,” she rests her hands on Brendon's, smiling reassuringly, “he's just going through a tough time trying to accept that you're here, and that you guys can't be together physically, and that he's not the one who has the ability to help you. He'll come around. When he falls in love, he falls deeply, there's no way his feelings for you disappeared in a blink of an eye, he still loves you. He just needs to figure out how to be a good boyfriend. He never really got the chance to.”

“I was right when I tried to keep him away from me, romantically at least, our relationship is too complicated, especially for him. He deserves better than all this mess.”

“It wouldn't have changed his feelings for you, and yes your relationship is complicated, but no relationship is easy, love should be easy, loving someone should be effortless, but a relationship requires both parts to work on it, therefore it's complicated. You're good together,” she pats his hands, a soft smile tugging at the corners of her lips, “it's just a complicated time to get into a relationship.”

“So you think him and I should just go on a break?”

“I'm not telling you what to do, I'm looking at the situation as objectively as I can, that's all, it's your role to figure out what to do with your relationship.”

“You're right, but I feel like I have way too much to figure out at the same time and I don't know where to start or if I'll even figure everything out,” he sighs and lean his head on Aelyn's shoulder, “it'd be nice to have someone figure it out for me.”

She rests her head against his, wrapping an arm around his shoulders, “no one has everything figured out, if we would then there would be no point in going on with life. Focus on what's the most important to you, the others can wait to be figured out, that's okay. Your health is more important than anything, love comes after your well-being. Love matters to all of us, we all crave it in our own way, but it should never be your priority over your well-being. Figuring out your relationship with Ryan can wait a little longer.”

“I want to be able to rely on him though, he means a lot to me, and I don't want to have to face this without him. He's been here for the past few months and as silly as it may sound, I got used to having him by my side through every storm, it feels wrong when he's not here,” he sniffles, “sorry, I didn't mean to kill the mood,” he laughs apologetically.

“You're a killjoy that's nothing new,” she laughs brightly, “you can always talk to me about what you're feeling and what bothers you, that's something that will never change, no matter the distance that seperates us.”

“Quit talking about me, what about _you_? What is new in _your_ life? A month is a hell of a long time.”

“ _So_ long,” she sighs and tighten her grip on Brendon's shoulders, “I need to talk to you about something that's really important to me but that I know will affect you,” she pauses hesitantly, feeling Brendon tense up under her touch, “I applied to an art school, asked for a scholarship, with which I wouldn't be able to go study there anyway. And I'm not sure how but, I managed to be picked, they said I have potiential and that they'd be glad to teach more in their school. Now, uhm, it's Wimbledon Art College,” she takes a deep breath, “it's in London.”

Her last words hit Brendon like a thousand horses running on him, crushing him until the ground and him become one. He feels tears starting to spill from his eyes and try to hide it by snuggling closer, placing his head under her chin so that she can't look down at him.

“I don't have to go there if you don't want me to,” she quickly adds with a broken voice.

Brendon exhales loudly before lifting his head and looking her in the eyes, “no, I, I told you to think about you for once, to do what _you_ want to do, instead of trying to please those who surround you. You tried to please your parents for so long, then Ryan, then me. I know you've always wanted to study art, that was your big regret from when you picked your major, because your parents didn't let you. You applied there because that's what you wanted to, so don't let anyone tell you that you shouldn't do what you want just because they don't want you to. And for your information, I want you to do it, because I want you to be happy, nothing less.”

“But-”

“No, let me finish what I have to say,” he interrupts her, “for the past months, you've lost your family because _I_ messed up, they turned their back to you, and still I don't think I've seen you shed a tear because of that, not once. You've gone through a break up and you brushed it off. You saw the man with whom you're in love, fall for your cousin, and never did I see you complain. But through this entire time, you've been there for me despite what was happening in your own life, you were there for me. You believed me, you forgave me, you comforted me, you supported me, you even accepted to face the douchiest lawyer ever for me. You told me, the most important is to take care of my own well-being, above everything else, now it's your turn to do that, you took care of me for months, take care of yourself now,” he takes her hands in his, not bothering to wipe off the tears off of his cheeks, “you're talented, you can do great things, if they want you to study in their school then they recognize that, you need to go there and see what it has to offer. I don't want you to end up regretting turning down this opportunity simply because your cousin is trying to find his mind after losing it. Of course I'd want to keep you near, and see that beautiful face every week, it hurts to imagine having to live without looking forward to seeing you, but it's not about me. It's about you, and what you want.”

“We will still communicate though, I asked Adelae if I could eventually do my visits through skype, you know since the internet isn't allowed for you, and she said that there'd be no problem you'll just have to be supervised,” she tries to smile brightly, just as she always do, even though the sadness is visible underneath, “you won't get rid of me.”

“I sure hope not,” he smiles pulling her in a tight embrace, “you're just moving in London to study, that's the fact, you're not running away from me,” he adds, more to reassure himself than anything else.

“Of course not, Brendon I'm not abandoning you, and I don't plan to,” she presses a soft kiss on his temple, “I was so nervous you would react badly, I didn't know how to tell you about it, but I had to, I couldn't leave without telling you, no matter how you would take it.”

“Considering how the last time I thought you were abandoning me went, I can only understand your fears, nothing would have happened to you here though, there's always someone to supervise us, they wouldn't have let me hurt you.”

“That's not what I feared, at least, not solely. At the court, you started to have a crisis when you argued with Ryan, and when I talked to you, you calmed down, maybe it was a coincidence or just a one time thing. But still, I was the only one who calmed you down, and maybe that means that if you were to hurt me now, you'd hurt me way more than if you were to hurt someone else. I don't know. But I calmed you down, and it made me realize how strong our bond is and I didn't want that to go away. That's what I feared. That and you not being okay.”

“Let's make a promise, to keep our fears away, okay?” Aelyn nods slowly so he continues, “I promise that I'll always keep you close to my heart, no matter what, no matter where you are in the world. I promise my love for my pain in the ass of a cousin will never fade, not even a little.”

She smiles brightly, “and I promise I'll call you on skype regularly, and never stop thinking about you nor loving you.”

“We sound like we're getting married right now,” he laughs softly.

“That's not false,” she joins him in happy laughters.

Adelae comes their way, waiting for them to stop laughing before speaking up, “it's been an hour already, it is time for you to go,” she tells Aelyn.

“We have to say goodbye a little too often to my liking, but no tears this time, because I know for sure you'll be fine here and it'll go well for you,” she pulls him in a tight hug and pull away after a long moment, not wanting to cry, “and it's not like we're never going to see each other anyway. Take good care of yourself, remember to focus on one thing at a time in order of importance, and never hide something to your doctors even if you think it's minor.”

“Yes mom,” he tries to joke, containing his tears, “follow your heart, don't try to please anyone but yourself over there, you have to come first, always. And most importantly, keep that beautiful smile on your face, because I know that the world would be far different without it. And if you happened to feel homesick sometimes or lonely or sad or whatever, even though I hope you never do, remember there's a weirdo to whom you're the whole world.”

“I said no tears,” she laughs ventilating herself with her hands, “I love you, my dear hubby.”

He laughs a little, taking a hold of Aelyn's hand and pressing a soft kiss on the back of it, “I love you too wifey.”

She smiles at him and stand up reluctantly, with a heavy heart, “I'll see you later.”

Brendon smiles, reminiscing the day he arrived here and she told him it wasn't a goodbye, but more of a see you later. Saying goodbye puts an end to things, see you later gives more hope that things won't change, that there'll always be another time you'll see one another, it makes the distance more bareable.

He's always been the one leaving, he drove away from Las Vegas twice, drove away from Phoenix, but Aelyn has never been further than Stateline, it's her turn to go see another piece of the world and learn more about herself in the process. She won't mess up like Brendon did, he's certain of that, she'll fall, she'll fail but she'll stand back up and she'll succeed. He hopes she'll keep a warm place in her heart for him through the process.

It's funny how someone you've despised for the most part of your life become, overtime, the most important person in your life, the one you've felt the closest to, close behind the one who'll forever keep the first place.

“See you later,” he says back, trying not to choke up as she waves one more time before walking away for the last time in a while. _It's not a goodbye,_ he tells himself, and even feel himself smile a small smile.

Maybe he didn't come back in Las Vegas in the right circumstances, but still, he's glad he did come back to this hell hole, for the sole reason that he finally got to know his cousin better, without the childish hate.

He beat up his uncle, her father, and he is not proud of that, but as weird as it sounds, it was for the best, he ended up here and not in prison, which he's thankful for. The road to a better mental health is a long one with bumps and holes and stop signs and red lights, with dark parts where there are no street lights. But he believes that maybe, just maybe, with doctors, friends and Aelyn holding his hand, it might be easier for him to take steps forward.

And maybe, just maybe, some time in the future, he'll look back and realize that he's come a long way since he first entered the hospital on a warm Tuesday afternoon.

 

 

**THE END**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now Ultraviolence is officially over.
> 
> When I started writing this little story I didn't expect anyone to pay attention to it, and I promised myself I'd write it until the end no matter the amount of attention it would get. But, there have been many lovely people reading this story and I am very incredibly from the bottom of my heart thankful for every minute you decided to spend reading what I had to write. You're silent readers, but it doesn't mean you're not there. Thank you. Thank you for every comment and kudos.
> 
> Now that this story has been brought to an end, after a year and a half, I'd like you to comment and tell me what was your favorite moment? favorite character? something you thought would happen but didn't? or something you thought wouldn't happen but happened anyway? What was your favorite pairing either friends or lovers? And whatever you would like to share or say!
> 
> You can also VOTE (I hope you all read until this point) for the next story I'll be writing, you have choice between:  
>  * London Calling (which will follow Aelyn in London with new original characters)  
>  * What If The Storm Ends? (which will follow Brendon at the mental hospital)  
>  * Both London Calling AND What If The Storm Ends  
>  * A completely new story!


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